{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_19630/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_19630","id":"gutenberg_19630","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/19630","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Poetry","Epic poetry, Sanskrit -- Translations into English"],"text":"Produced by Andrew Sly, using a text prepared by John B.\nHare of sacred-texts.com.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Frontespiece: The Banishment]\n\n\nMAHA-BHARATA\n\nTHE EPIC OF ANCIENT INDIA\n\nCONDENSED INTO ENGLISH VERSE\n\nBy Romesh C. Dutt C.I.E.\n\nMDCCCXCIX Published by J. M. Dent\nand Co. Aldine House London W. C.\n\n\nTo\nTHE MARQUIS OF RIPON\nEver gratefully remembered by my countrymen for his\njust and benevolent administration and for his\ngenerous and helpful measures for the\nintroduction of self-government\nin India\n\nThis translation\nof the ancient epic of my country\nis respectfully dedicated\n\n\nContents\n\n   BOOK                                    PAGE\n     I. Astra Darsana (The Tournament)        1\n    II. Swayamvara (The Bride's Choice)      14\n   III. Rajasuya (The Imperial Sacrifice)    28\n    IV. Dyuta (The Fatal Dice)               42\n     V. Pativrata-Mahatmya (Woman's Love)    55\n    VI. Go-Harana (Cattle-Lifting)           73\n   VII. Udyoga (The Preparation)             86\n  VIII. Bhishma-Badha (Fall of Bhishma)     100\n    IX. Drona-Badha (Fall of Drona)         119\n     X. Karna-Badha (Fall of Karna)         136\n    XI. Sraddha (Funeral Rites)             151\n   XII. Aswa-Medha (Sacrifice of the Horse) 161\n        Conclusion                          171\n        Translator's Epilogue               174\n\n\n\nTHE EPIC OF ANCIENT INDIA\n\n\n\nBOOK I\n\nASTRA DARSANA\n\n(The Tournament)\n\n\nThe scene of the Epic is the ancient kingdom of the Kurus which\nflourished along the upper course of the Ganges; and the historical\nfact on which the Epic is based is a great war which took place\nbetween the Kurus and a neighbouring tribe, the Panchalas, in the\nthirteenth or fourteenth century before Christ.\n\nAccording to the Epic, Pandu and Dhrita-rashtra, who was born blind,\nwere brothers. Pandu died early, and Dhrita-rashtra became king of\nthe Kurus, and brought up the five sons of Pandu along with his\nhundred sons.\n\nYudhishthir, the eldest son of Pandu, was a man of truth and piety;\nBhima, the second, was a stalwart fighter; and Arjun, the third son,\ndistinguished himself above all the other princes in arms. The two\nyoungest brothers, Nakula and Sahadeva, were twins. Duryodhan was\nthe eldest son of Dhrita-rashtra and was jealous of his cousins, the\nsons of Pandu. A tournament was held, and in the course of the day\na warrior named Karna, of unknown origin, appeared on the scene and\nproved himself a worthy rival of Arjun. The rivalry between Arjun\nand Karna is the leading thought of the Epic, as the rivalry between\nAchilles and Hector is the leading thought of the Iliad.\n\nIt is only necessary to add that the sons of Pandu as well as Karna,\nwere, like the heroes of Homer, god-born chiefs. Some god inspired\nthe birth of each. Yudhishthir was the son of Dharma or Virtue, Bhima\nof Vayu or Wind, Arjun of Indra or Rain-god, the twin youngest were\nthe sons of the Aswin twins, and Karna was the son of Surya the Sun,\nbut was believed by himself and by all others to be the son of a\nsimple chariot-driver.\n\nThe portion translated in this Book forms Sections cxxxiv. to\ncxxxvii. of Book i. of the original Epic in Sanscrit (Calcutta\nedition of 1834).\n\nI\n\nThe Gathering\n\nWrathful sons of Dhrita-rashtra, born of Kuru's royal race!\nRighteous sons of noble Pandu, god-born men of godlike grace!\n\nSkill in arms attained these princes from a Brahman warrior bold,\nDrona, priest and proud preceptor, peerless chief of days of old!\n\nOut spake Drona to the monarch in Hastina's royal hall,\nSpake to Bhishma and to Kripa, spake to lords and courtiers all:\n\n\"Mark the gallant princes, monarch, trained in arms and warlike art,\nLet them prove their skill and valour, rein the steed and throw the dart.\"\n\nAnswered then the ancient monarch, joyful was his royal heart,\n\"Best of Brahmans and of warriors, nobly hast thou done thy part!\n\nName the place and fix the moment, hold a royal tournament,\nPublish wide the laws of combat, publish far thy king's consent.\n\nSightless roll these orbs of vision, dark to me is noonday light,\nHappier men will mark the tourney and the peerless princes' fight.\n\nLet the good and wise Vidura serve thy mandate and behest,\nLet a father's pride and gladness fill this old and cheerless breast.\"\n\nThen the good and wise Vidura unto his duties bound,\nDrona, blessed with skill and wisdom, measured out the tourney ground,\n\nClear of jungle was the meadow, by a crystal fountain graced,\nDrona on the lighted altar holy gifts and offerings placed,\n\nHoly was the star auspicious, and the hour was calm and bright,\nMen from distant town and hamlet came to view the sacred rite.\n\nThen arose white stately mansions, built by architects of fame,\nDecked with arms for Kuru's monarch and for every royal dame,\n\nAnd the people built their stages circling round the listed green,\nAnd the nobles with their white tents graced the fair and festive scene.\n\nBrightly dawned the festal morning, and the monarch left his hall,\nBhishma and the pious Kripa with the lords and courtiers all,\n\nAnd they came unto the mansions, gay and glittering, gold-encased,\nDecked with gems and rich _baidurya_, and with strings of pearls be-laced.\n\nFair Gandhari, queen of Kuru, Pritha, Pandu's widowed dame,\nLadies in their gorgeous garments, maids of beauty and of fame,\n\nMounted on their glittering mansions where the tints harmonious blend,\nAs, on Meru's golden mountain, queens of heavenly gods ascend!\n\nAnd the people of the city, Brahmans, Vaisyas, Kshatras bold,\nMen from stall and loom and anvil gathered thick, the young and old,\n\nAnd arose the sound of trumpet and the surging people's cry,\nLike the voice of angry ocean, tempest-lashed, sublime and high!\n\nCame the saintly white-robed Drona, white his sacrificial thread,\nWhite his sandal-mark and garlands, white the locks that crowned his head,\n\nWith his son renowned for valour walked forth Drona, radiant, high,\nSo the Moon with Mars conjoined walks upon the cloudless sky!\n\nOfferings to the gods immortal then the priestly warrior made,\nBrahmans with their chanted _mantra_ worship and obeisance paid,\n\nAnd the festive note of _sankha_ mingled with the trumpet's sound,\nThrongs of warriors, various-armed, came unto the listed ground.\n\nII\n\nThe Princes\n\nGauntleted and jewel-girdled, now the warlike princes came,\nWith their stately bows and quivers and their swords like wreaths of flame,\n\nEach behind his elder stepping, good Yudhishthir first of all,\nEach his wondrous skill displaying held the silent crowds in thrall.\n\nAnd the men in admiration marked them with a joyful eye,\nOr by sudden panic stricken stooped to let the arrow fly!\n\nMounted on their rapid coursers oft the princes proved their aim,\nRacing, hit the targe with arrows lettered with their royal name,\n\nWith their glinting sunlit weapons shone the youths sublime and high,\nMore than mortals seemed the princes, like _gandharvas_ of the sky!\n\nShouts of joy the people uttered as by sudden impulse driven,\nMingled voice of tens of thousands struck the pealing vault of heaven!\n\nStill the princes shook their weapons, drove the deep resounding car,\nOr on steed or tusker mounted waged the glorious mimic war!\n\nMighty sword and ample buckler, ponderous mace the princes wield,\nBrightly gleam their lightning rapiers as they range the listed field,\n\nBrave and fearless is their action, and their movement quick and light,\nSkilled and true the thrust and parry of their weapons flaming bright!\n\nIII\n\nBhima and Duryodhan\n\nBhima came and proud Duryodhan with their maces held on high,\nLike two cliffs with lofty turrets cleaving through the azure sky!\n\nIn their warlike arms accoutred with their girded loins they stood,\nLike two untamed jungle tuskers in the deep and echoing wood!\n\nAnd as tuskers range the forest, so they range the spacious field,\nRight to left and back they wander and their ponderous maces wield!\n\nUnto Kuru's sightless monarch wise Vidura drew the scene,\nPritha proudly of the princes spake unto the Kuru queen.\n\nWhile the stalwart Bhima battled with Duryodhan brave and strong,\nFierce in wrath, for one or other, shouted forth the maddened throng,\n\n\"Hail to Kuru prince Duryodhan!\" \"Hail to Bhima hero proud!\"\nSounds like these from surging myriads rose in tumult deep and loud.\n\nAnd with troubled vision Drona marked the heaving restless plain,\nMarked the crowd by anger shaken, like the tempest-shaken main,\n\nTo his son then whispered Drona quick the tumult to appease,\nPart the armed and angry wrestlers, bid the deadly combat cease,\n\nWith their lifted clubs the princes slow retired on signal given,\nLike the parting of the billows, mighty-heaving, tempest-driven!\n\nCame forth then the ancient Drona on the open battle-ground,\nStopped the drum and lofty trumpet, spake in voice like thunder's sound:\n\n\"Bid him come, the gallant Arjun! pious prince and warrior skilled,\nArjun, born of mighty INDRA, and with VISHNU'S prowess filled.\"\n\nIV\n\nThe Advent of Arjun\n\nGauntleted and jewel-girdled, with his bow of ample height,\nArcher Arjun pious-hearted to the gods performed a rite,\n\nThen he stepped forth proud and stately in his golden mail encased,\nLike the sunlit cloud of evening with the golden rainbow graced!\n\nAnd a gladness stirred the people all around the listed plain,\nVoice of drum and blare of trumpet rose with _sankha's_ festive strain!\n\n\"Mark! the gallant son of Pandu, whom the happy Pritha bore,\nMark! the heir of INDRA'S valour, matchless in his arms and lore,\n\nMark! the warrior young and valiant, peerless in his skill of arms,\nMark! the pure-souled, pious chieftain, decked with grace and varied\n  charms!\"\n\nPritha heard such grateful voices borne aloft unto the sky,\nMilk of love suffused her bosom, tear of joy was in her eye!\n\nAnd where rested Kuru's monarch, joyous accents struck his ear,\nAnd he turned to wise Vidura seeking for the cause to hear:\n\n\"Wherefore like the voice of ocean, when the tempest winds prevail,\nRise these voices of the people and the spacious skies assail?\"\n\nAnswered him the wise Vidura, \"It is Pritha's gallant boy,\nGodlike moves in golden armour, and the people shout for joy!\"\n\n\"Pleased am I,\" so spake the monarch, \"and I bless my happy fate,\nPritha's sons like fires of _yajna_ sanctify this mighty State!\"\n\nNow the voices of the people died away and all was still,\nArjun to his proud preceptor showed his might and matchless skill.\n\nTowering high or lowly bending, on the turf or on his car,\nWith his bow and glist'ning arrows Arjun waged the mimic war,\n\nTargets on the wide arena, mighty tough or wondrous small,\nWith his arrows bright, unfailing, Arjun pierced them one and all!\n\nWild-boar shaped of solid iron coursed the wide-extending field,\nIn its jaws five glist'ning arrows sent the archer wondrous-skilled,\n\nCow-horn by a thread suspended, was by winds unceasing swayed,\nOne and twenty well-aimed arrows on this moving mark he laid,\n\nAnd with equal skill his rapier did the godlike Arjun wield,\nWhirling round his mace of battle ranged the spacious tourney field!\n\nV\n\nThe Advent of Karna\n\nNow the feats of arm are ended, and the closing hour draws nigh,\nMusic's voice is hushed in silence, and dispersing crowds pass by,\n\nHark! Like welkin-shaking thunder wakes a deep and deadly sound,\nClank and din of warlike weapons burst upon the tented ground!\n\nAre the solid mountains splitting, is it bursting of the earth,\nIs it tempest's pealing accent whence the lightning takes its birth?\n\nThoughts like these alarm the people for the sound is dread and high,\nTo the gate of the arena turns the crowd with anxious eye!\n\nGathered round preceptor Drona, Pandu's sons in armour bright,\nLike the five-starred constellation round the radiant Queen of Night,\n\nGathered round the proud Duryodhan, dreaded for his exploits done,\nAll his brave and warlike brothers and preceptor Drona's son,\n\nSo the gods encircled INDRA, thunder-wielding, fierce and bold,\nWhen he scattered Danu's children in the misty days of old!\n\nPale, before the unknown warrior, gathered nations part in twain,\nConqueror of hostile cities, lofty Karna treads the plain!\n\nIn his golden mail accoutred and his rings of yellow gold,\nLike a moving cliff in stature, armed comes the chieftain bold!\n\nPritha, yet unwedded, bore him, peerless archer on the earth,\nPortion of the solar radiance, for the Sun inspired his birth!\n\nLike a tusker in his fury, like a lion in his ire,\nLike the sun in noontide radiance, like the all-consuming fire!\n\nLion-like in build and muscle, stately as a golden palm,\nBlessed with every very manly virtue, peerless warrior proud and calm!\n\nWith his looks serene and lofty field of war the chief surveyed,\nScarce to Kripa or to Drona honour and obeisance made!\n\nStill the panic-stricken people viewed him with unmoving gaze,\nWho may be this unknown warrior, questioned they in hushed amaze!\n\nThen in voice of pealing thunder spake fair Pritha's eldest son\nUnto Arjun, Pritha's youngest, each, alas! to each unknown!\n\n\"All thy feats of weapons, Arjun, done with vain and needless boast,\nThese and greater I accomplish--witness be this mighty host!\"\n\nThus spake proud and peerless Karna in his accents deep and loud,\nAnd as moved by sudden impulse leaped in joy the listening crowd!\n\nAnd a gleam of mighty transport glows in proud Duryodhan's heart,\nFlames of wrath and jealous anger from the eyes of Arjun start!\n\nDrona gave the word, and Karna, Pritha's war-beloving son,\nWith his sword and with his arrows did the feats by Arjun done!\n\nVI\n\nThe Rival Warriors\n\nJoyful was the proud Duryodhan, gladness gleamed upon his face,\nAnd he spake to gallant Karna with a dear and fond embrace:\n\n\"Welcome, mighty armed chieftain! thou hast victor's honours won!\nThine is all my wealth and kingdom, name thy wish and it is done!\"\n\nAnswered Karna to Duryodhan, \"Prince! thy word is good as deed,\nBut I seek to combat Arjun and to win the victor's meed!\"\n\n\"Noble is the boon thou seekest,\" answered Kuru's prince of fame,\n\"Be a joy unto your comrades, let the foeman dread thy name!\"\n\nAnger flamed in Arjun's bosom, and he spake in accents rude\nUnto Karna who in triumph calm and proud and fearless stood:\n\n\"Chief! who comest uninvited, pratest in thy lying boast,\nThou shalt die the death of braggarts--witness be this mighty host!\"\n\nKarna answered calm and proudly, \"Free this listed field to all,\nWarriors enter by their prowess, wait not, Arjun, for thy call!\n\nWarlike chieftains take their places by their strength of arm and might,\nAnd their warrant is their falchion, valour sanctifies their right!\n\nAngry word is coward's weapon, Arjun, speak with arrows keen,\nTill I lay thee, witness Drona, low upon the listed green!\"\n\nDrona gave the word impartial, wrathful Arjun, dread of foes,\nParted from his loving brothers, with his glist'ning arms arose,\n\nKarna clasped the Kuru's princes, parted from them one and all,\nWith his bow and ample quiver proudly stepped the warrior tall.\n\nNow the clouds with lurid flashes gathered darkling, thick and high,\nLines of cranes like gleams of laughter sailed across the gloomy sky.\n\nRain-god INDRA over Arjun watched with father's partial love,\nSun-god SURYA over Karna shed his light from far above,\n\nArjun stood in darkening shadow by the inky clouds concealed,\nBold and bright in open sunshine radiant Karna stood revealed!\n\nProud Duryodhan and his brothers stood by Karna calm and bold,\nDrona stood by gallant Arjun, and brave Bhishma, warrior old,\n\nWomen too with partial glances viewed the one or other chief,\nBut by equal love divided silent Pritha swooned in grief!\n\nWise Vidura, true to duty, with an anxious hurry came,\nSandal-drops and sprinkled waters roused the woe-distracted dame,\n\nAnd she saw her sons in combat, words of woe she uttered none,\nSpeechless wept, for none must fathom Karna was her eldest son!\n\nVII\n\nThe Anointment of Karna\n\nCrested Karna, helmed Arjun, proudly trod the spacious green,\nKripa, skilled in herald's duties, spake upon the dreadful scene:\n\n_\"This is helmet-wearing Arjun, sprung of Kuru's mighty race,\nPandu's son and borne by Pritha, prince of worth and warlike grace,_\n\n_Long-armed Chief! declare thy lineage, and the race thou dost adorn,\nName thy mother and thy father, and the house that saw thee born,_\n\n_By the rules of war Prince Arjun claims his rival chief to know,\nPrinces may not draw their weapon 'gainst a base and nameless foe!\"_\n\nKarna silent heard this mandate but his birth could not proclaim,\nLike a raindrop-pelted lotus bent his humble head in shame!\n\n\"Prince we reckon,\" cried Duryodhan, \"not the man of birth alone,\nWarlike leader of his forces as a prince and chief we own!\n\nKarna by his warlike valour is of crowned kings the peer,\nKarna shall be crowned monarch, nations shall his mandate hear!\"\n\nForth they brought the corn and treasure, golden coin and water jar,\nOn the throne they seated Karna famed in many a deathful war,\n\nBrahmans chanted sacred _mantra_ which the holy books ordain,\nAnd anointed Karna monarch, king of Anga's fair domain,\n\nAnd they raised the red umbrella, and they waved the _chowri_ fan,\n\"Blessings on the crowned monarch! honour to the bravest man!\"\n\nNow the holy rites accomplished, in his kingly robes arrayed\nKarna unto prince Duryodhan thus in grateful accents prayed:\n\n\"Gift of kingdom, good Duryodhan, speaketh well thy noble heart,\nWhat return can grateful Karna humbly render on his part?\"\n\n\"Grant thy friendship,\" cried Duryodhan, \"for no other boon I crave,\nBe Duryodhan's dearest comrade be his helper true and brave!\"\n\n\"Be it so!\" responded Karna, with a proud and noble grace,\nAnd he sealed his loyal friendship in a dear and fond embrace!\n\nVIII\n\nThe Chariot-driver\n\nWet with drops of toil and languor, lo! a chariot-driver came,\nLoosely hung his scanty garments, and a staff upheld his frame,\n\nKarna, now a crowned monarch, to the humble charioteer,\nBent his head, still moist with water, as unto a parent dear!\n\nWith his scanty cloth the driver sought his dusty feet to hide,\nAnd he hailed the gallant Karna as his son and as his pride,\n\nAnd he clasped unto his bosom crowned Karna's noble head,\nAnd on Karna's dripping forehead, fresh and loving tear-drops shed!\n\nIs he son of chariot-driver? Doubts arose in Bhima's mind,\nAnd he sought to humble Karna with reproachful words unkind:\n\n\"Wilt thou, high-descended hero, with a Kuru cross thy brand?\nBut the goad of cattle-drivers better suits, my friend, thy hand!\n\nWilt thou as a crowned monarch rule a mighty nation's weal?\nAs the jackals of the jungle sacrificial offerings steal!\"\n\nQuivered Karna's lips in anger, word of answer spake he none,\nBut a deep sigh shook his bosom, and he gazed upon the sun!\n\nIX\n\nClose of the Day\n\nLike a lordly tusker rising from a beauteous lotus lake,\nRose Duryodhan from his brothers, proudly thus to Bhima spake:\n\n\"With such insults seek not, Bhima, thus to cause a warrior grief,\nBitter taunts but ill befit thee, warlike tiger-waisted chief!\n\nProudest chief may fight the humblest, for like river's noble course,\nNoble deeds proclaim the warrior, and we question not their source!\n\nTeacher Drona, priest and warrior, owns a poor and humble birth,\nKripa, noblest of Gautamas, springeth from the lowly earth!\n\nKnown to me thy lineage Bhima, thine and of thy brothers four,\nAmorous gods your birth inspired, so they say, in days of yore!\n\nMark the great and gallant Karna decked in rings and weapons fair,\nShe-deer breeds not lordly tigers in her poor and lowly lair!\n\nKarna comes to rule the wide earth, not fair Anga's realms alone,\nBy his valour and his weapons, by the homage which I own!\n\nAnd if prince or armed chieftain doth my word or deed gainsay,\nLet him take his bow and quiver, meet me in a deadly fray!\"\n\nLoud applauses greet the challenge and the people's joyful cry,\nBut the thickening shades of darkness fill the earth and evening sky,\n\nAnd the red lamp's fitful lustre shone upon the field around,\nSlowly with the peerless Karna proud Duryodhan left the ground.\n\nPandu's sons with warlike Drona marked the darksome close of day,\nAnd with Kripa and with Bhishma homeward silent bent their way.\n\n\"Arjun is the gallant victor!\" \"Valiant Karna's won the day!\"\n\"Prince Duryodhan is the winner!\" Various thus the people say.\n\nBy some secret sign apprised Pritha knew her gallant boy,\nSaw him crowned king of Anga, with a mother's secret joy,\n\nAnd with greater joy Duryodhan fastened Karna to his side,\nFeared no longer Arjun's prowess, Arjun's skill of arms and pride,\n\nE'en Yudhishthir reckoned Karna mightiest warrior on the earth,\nHalf misdoubted Arjun's prowess, Arjun's skill and warlike worth!\n\n\n\n\nBOOK II\n\nSWAYAMVARA\n\n(The Bride's Choice)\n\n\nThe mutual jealousies of the princes increased from day to day, and\nwhen Yudhishthir, the eldest of all the princes and the eldest son of\nthe late Pandu, was recognised heir-apparent, the anger of Duryodhan\nand his brothers knew no bounds. And they formed a dark scheme to\nkill the sons of Pandu.\n\nThe sons of Pandu were induced with their mother to pay a visit to a\ndistant town called Varanavata. A house had been built there for\ntheir residence, constructed of inflammable materials. At the\nappointed time fire was set to the house; but the five brothers\nand their mother escaped the conflagration through a subterranean\npassage, retired into forests, and lived in the disguise of Brahmans.\n\nIn course of time they heard of the approaching celebrations of the\nmarriage of the princess of Panchala, an ancient kingdom in the\nvicinity of modern Kanouj. All the monarchs of Northern India were\ninvited, and the bride would choose her husband from among the\nassembled kings according to the ancient _Swayamvara_ custom. The\nfive sons of Pandu decided to go and witness the ceremony.\n\nThe portion translated in this Book formed Sections clxxxiv. to\ncxxxix. of Book i. of the original text.\n\nI\n\nJourney to Panchala\n\nNow the righteous sons of Pandu, wand'ring far from day to day,\nUnto South Panchala's country glad and joyful held their way,\n\nFor when travelling with their mother, so it chanced by will of fate,\nThey were met by pious Brahmans bound for South Panchala's State,\n\nAnd the pure and holy Brahmans hailed the youths of noble fame,\nAsked them whither they would journey, from what distant land they came.\n\n\"From the land of Ekachakra,\" good Yudhishthir answered so,\n\"With our ancient mother travelling unto distant lands we go.\"\n\n\"Heard ye not,\" the Brahmans questioned, \"in Panchala's fair domain,\nDrupad, good and gracious monarch, doth a mighty feast ordain?\n\nTo that festive land we journey, Drupad's bounteous gifts to share,\nAnd to see the _swayamvara_ of Panchala's princess fair,--\n\nHuman mother never bore her, human bosom never fed,\nFrom the Altar sprang the maiden who some noble prince will wed!\n\nSoft her eyes like lotus-petal, sweet her tender jasmine form,\nAnd a maiden's stainless honour doth her gentle soul inform!\n\nAnd her brother, mailed and armed with his bow and arrows dire,\nRadiant as the blazing altar, sprang from Sacrificial Fire!\n\nFair the sister slender-waisted, dowered with beauty rich and rare,\nAnd like fragrance of blue lotus, perfumes all the sweetened air!\n\nShe will choose from noble suitors gathered from the west and east,\nBright and fair shall be the wedding, rich and bounteous be the feast!\n\nKings will come from distant regions sacrificing wealth and gold,\nStainless monarchs versed in _sastra_, pious-hearted, mighty-souled,\n\nHandsome youths and noble princes from each near and distant land,\nCar-borne chieftains bold and skilful, brave of heart and stout of hand!\n\nAnd to win the peerless princess they will scatter presents rare,\nFood and milch-kine, wealth and jewels, gold and gifts and garments fair,\n\nNoble gifts we take as Brahmans, bless the rite with gladsome heart,\nShare the feast so rich and bounteous, then with joyful minds depart.\n\nActors, mimes, and tuneful minstrels fair Panchala's court will throng,\nFamed reciters of _puranas_, dancers skilled and wrestlers strong,\n\nCome with us, the wedding witness, share the banquet rich and rare,\nPleased with gifts and noble presents to your distant home repair.\n\nDowered ye are with princely beauty, like the radiant gods above,\nEven on you the partial princess may surrender heart and love!\n\nAnd this youth so tall and stalwart, mighty-armed, strong and bold,\nHe may win in feats of valour, and acquire much wealth and gold!\"\n\n\"Be it so,\" Yudhishthir answered, \"to Panchala we repair,\nView the wedding of the princess and the royal bounty share.\"\n\nThus the righteous sons of Pandu with the Brahmans took their way,\nWhere in South Panchala's kingdom mighty Drupad held his sway.\n\nNow the sinless saintly _rishi_, deathless bard of deathless lay,\nHerald of the holy Vedas, Vyasa stood before their way!\n\nAnd the princes bowed unto him and received his blessings kind,\nBy his mandate to Panchala went with pleased and joyful mind!\n\nJungle woods and silver waters round their sylvan pathway lay,\nHalting at each wayside station marched the princes day by day,\n\nStainless and intent on _sastra_, fair in speech and pure in heart,\nTravelling slow they reached Panchala, saw its spacious town and mart,\n\nSaw the fort, bazaar and city, saw the spire and shining dome,\nIn a potter's distant cottage made their humble unknown home,\n\nAnd disguised as pious Brahmans sons of Pandu begged their food,\nPeople knew not Kuru's princes in that dwelling poor and rude.\n\nII\n\nThe Wedding Assembly\n\nTo the helmed son of Pandu, Arjun pride of Kuru's race,\nDrupad longed to give his daughter peerless in her maiden grace,\n\nAnd of massive wood unbending, Drupad made a stubborn bow,\nSaving Arjun prince or chieftain might not bend the weapon low,\n\nAnd he made a whirling discus, hung it 'neath the open sky,\nAnd beyond the whirling discus placed a target far and high,\n\n\"Whose strings this bow,\" said Drupad, \"hits the target in his pride\nThrough the high and circling discus, wins Panchala's princely bride!\"\n\nAnd they spake the monarch's mandate in the kingdoms near and far,\nAnd from every town and country princes came and chiefs of war,\n\nCame the pure and saintly _rishis_ for to bless the holy rite,\nCame the Kurus with brave Karna in their pride and matchless might,\n\nBrahmans came from distant regions with their sacred learning blest,\nDrupad with a royal welcome greeted every honoured guest.\n\nNow the festal day approacheth! Gathering men with ocean's voice,\nFilled the wide and circling stages to behold the maiden's choice,\n\nRoyal guests and princely suitors came in pomp of wealth and pride,\nCar-borne chiefs and mailed warriors came to win the beauteous bride!\n\nNorth-east of the festive city they enclosed a level ground,\nMany a dome and stately palace cunning builders built around,\n\nAnd by moat and wall surrounded, pierced by gate and arched door,\nBy a canopy of splendour was the red field covered o'er!\n\nNow the festive trumpets sounded and the censer fragrance lent,\nSprinkled _chandan_ spread its coolness, wreaths were hung of sweetest\n  scent,\n\nAll around were swan-white mansions, lofty domes and turrets high,\nLike the peaks of white Kailasa cleaving through the azure sky!\n\nSparkling gems the chambers lighted, golden nets the windows laced,\nSpacious stairs so wide and lofty were with beauteous carpets graced,\n\nRich festoons and graceful garlands gently waved like streamers gay,\nAnd the swan-like silver mansions glinted in the light of day,\n\nGates below were thronged with people, far above the chambers lay,\nWith their lofty gilded turrets like the peaks of Himalay!\n\nIn these halls in pride and splendour dwelt each rich and royal guest,\nFired by mutual emulation, and in costly jewels drest,\n\nDecked and perfumed sat these rulers, mighty-armed, rich in fame,\nLion-monarchs, noble-destined, chiefs of pure and spotless name,\n\nPious to the mighty BRAHMA, and their subjects' hope and stay,\nLoved of all for noble actions, kind and virtuous in their sway.\n\nNow the festal day approacheth! like the heaving of the main,\nSurge the ranks of gathered nations o'er the wide and spacious plain,\n\nPandu's sons in guise of Brahmans mix with Brahmans versed in lore,\nMark proud Drupad's wealth and splendour, gazing, wondering evermore,\n\nDancers charm the gathered people, singers sing and actors play,\nFifteen days of festive splendour greet the concourse rich and gay.\n\nIII\n\nThe Bride\n\nSound the drum and voice the _sankha!_ Brightly dawns the bridal day,\nFresh from morning's pure ablutions comes the bride in garments gay!\n\nAnd her golden bridal garland carries on her graceful arm,\nSoftly, sweetly, steps Draupadi, queen of every winning charm!\n\nThen a Brahman versed in _mantra_, ancient priest of lunar race,\nLights the Fire, with pious offerings seeks its blessings and its grace,\n\nWhispered words of benediction saints and holy men repeat,\nConch and trumpet's voice is silent, hushed the lofty war-drum's beat,\n\nAnd there reigns a solemn silence, and in stately pomp and pride,\nDrupad's son leads forth his sister, fair Panchala's beauteous bride!\n\nIn his loud and lofty accents like the distant thunder's sound,\nDrupad's son his father's wishes thus proclaims to all around:\n\n_\"Mark this bow, assembled monarchs, and the target hung an high,\nThrough yon whirling pierced discus let five glist'ning arrows fly!_\n\n_Whoso born of noble lineage, hits the far suspended aim,\nLet him stand and as his guerdon Drupad's beauteous maiden claim!\"_\n\nThen he turns unto Draupadi, tells each prince and suitor's name,\nTells his race and lofty lineage, and his warlike deeds of fame.\n\nIV\n\nThe Suitors\n\n\"Brave Duryodhan and his brothers, princes of the Kuruland,\nKarna proud and peerless archer, sister! seek thy noble hand,\n\nAnd Gandhara's warlike princes, Bhoja's monarch true and bold,\nAnd the son of mighty Drona, all bedecked in gems and gold!\n\nKing and prince from Matsya kingdom grace this noble wedding-feast,\nMonarchs from more distant regions north and south and west and east,\n\nTamralipta and Kalinga on the eastern ocean wave,\nPattan's port whose hardy children western ocean's dangers brave!\n\nFrom the distant land of Madra car-borne monarch Salya came,\nAnd from Dwarka's sea-girt regions Valadeva known to fame,\n\nValadeva and his brother Krishna sprung from Yadu's race,\nOf the Vrishni clan descended, soul of truth and righteous grace!\n\nThis is mighty Jayadratha come from Sindhu's sounding shore,\nFamed for warlike feats of valour, famed alike for sacred lore,\n\nThis is fair Kosala's monarch whose bright deeds our heralds sing,\nFrom the sturdy soil of Chedi, Sisupala peerless king,\n\nThis is mighty Jarasandha, come from far Magadha's land,\nThese are other princely suitors, sister! eager for thy hand!\n\nAll the wide earth's warlike rulers seek to shoot the distant aim,\nPrincess, whoso hits the target, choose as thine that prince of fame!\"\n\nDecked with jewels, young and valiant, all aflame with soft desire,\nConscious of their worth and valour, all the suitors rose in ire,\n\nNobly born, of lofty presence, full of young unyielding pride,\nLike the tuskers wild and lordly on Himalay's wooded side!\n\nEach his rival marks as foeman as in field of deadly strife,\nEach regards the fair Draupadi as his own his queenly wife,\n\nOn the gorgeous field they gather by a maddening passion fired,\nAnd they strive as strove the bright gods, when by Uma's love inspired!\n\nAnd the gods in cloud-borne chariots came to view the scene so fair,\nBright ADITYAS in their splendour, MARUTS in the moving air,\n\nWinged _suparnas_, scaly _nagas_, _deva-rishis_ pure and high,\nFor their music famed, _gandharvas_, fair _apsaras_ of the sky!\n\nValadeva armed with ploughshare, Krishna chief of righteous fame,\nWith the other Yadu chieftains to that wondrous bridal came,\n\nKrishna marked the sons of Pandu eager for the queenly bride,\nLike wild tuskers for a lotus, like the fire that ashes hide,\n\nAnd he knew the warlike brothers in their holy Brahman guise,\nPointed them to Valadeva, gazing with a glad surprise!\n\nBut the other chiefs and monarchs with their eyes upon the bride,\nMarked nor knew the sons of Pandu sitting speechless by their side,\n\nAnd the long-armed sons of Pandu smitten by KANDARPA'S dart,\nLooked on her with longing languor and with love-impassioned heart!\n\nBright immortals gaily crowding viewed the scene surpassing fair,\nHeavenly blossoms soft descending with a perfume filled the air,\n\nBright celestial cars in concourse sailed upon the cloudless sky,\nDrum and flute and harp and tabor sounded deep and sounded high!\n\nV\n\nTrial of Skill\n\nUprose one by one the suitors, marking still the distant aim,\nMighty monarchs, gallant princes, chiefs of proud and warlike fame,\n\nDecked in golden crown and necklace, and inflamed by pride and love,\nStoutly strove the eager suitors viewing well the target above,\n\nStrove to string the weapon vainly, tough unbending was the bow,\nSlightly bent, rebounding quickly, laid the gallant princes low!\n\nStrove the handsome suitors vainly, decked in gem and burnished gold,\nReft of diadem and necklace, fell each chief and warrior bold,\n\nReft of golden crown and garland, shamed and humbled in their pride,\nGroaned the suitors in their anguish, sought no more Panchala's bride!\n\nUprose Karna, peerless archer, proudest of the archers he,\nAnd he went and strung the weapon, fixed the arrows gallantly,\n\nStood like SURYA in his splendour and like AGNI in his flame,--\nPandu's sons in terror whispered, Karna sure must hit the aim!\n\nBut in proud and queenly accents Drupad's queenly daughter said:\n\"Monarch's daughter, born a Kshatra, Suta's son I will not wed!\"\n\nKarna heard with crimsoned forehead, left the emprise almost done,\nLeft the bow already circled, silent gazed upon the Sun!\n\nUprose Chedi's haughty monarch, mightiest of the monarchs he,\nOther kings had failed inglorious, Sisupala stood forth free,\n\nFirm in heart and fixed in purpose, bent the tough unbending bow,\nVainly! for the bow rebounding laid the haughty monarch low!\n\nUprose sturdy Jarasandha, far Magadha's mighty chief,\nHeld the bow and stood undaunted, tall and stately as a cliff,\n\nBut once more the bow rebounded, fell the monarch in his shame,\nLeft in haste Panchala's mansions for the region whence he came!\n\nUprose Salya, king of Madra, with his wondrous skill and might,\nFaltering, on his knees descending, fell in sad inglorious plight,\n\nThus each monarch fell and faltered, merry whispers went around,\nAnd the sound of stifled laughter circled round the festive ground!\n\nVI\n\nThe Disguised Arjun\n\nHushed the merry sound of laughter, hushed each suitor in his shame,\nArjun, godlike son of Pritha, from the ranks of Brahmans came,\n\nGuised as priest serene and holy, fair as INDRA'S rainbow bright,\nAll the Brahmans shook their deerskins, cheered him in their hearts'\n  delight!\n\nSome there were with sad misgivings heard the sound of joyous cheer\nAnd their minds were strangely anxious, whispered murmurs spake their fear:\n\n\"Wondrous bow which Sisupala, mighty Salya could not strain,\nJarasandha famed for prowess strove to bend the string in vain,\n\nCan a Brahman weak by nature, and in warlike arms untrained,\nWield the bow which crowned monarchs, long-armed chieftains have\n  not strained?\n\nSure the Brahman boy in folly dares a foolish thoughtless deed,\nShame amidst this throng of monarchs, shall it be the Brahman's meed?\n\nYouth in youthful pride or madness will a foolish emprise dare,\nSager men should stop his rashness and the Brahman's honour spare!\"\n\n\"Shame he will not bring unto us,\" other Brahmans made reply,\n\"Rather, in this throng of monarchs, rich renown and honour high,\n\nLike a tusker strong and stately, like Himalay's towering crest,\nStands unmoved the youthful Brahman, ample-shouldered, deep in chest,\n\nLion-like his gait is agile, and determined is his air,\nTrust me he can do an emprise who hath lofty will to dare!\n\nHe will do the feat of valour, will not bring disgrace and stain,\nNor is task in all this wide earth which a Brahman tries in vain,\n\nHoly men subsist on wild fruits, in the strength of penance strong,\nSpare in form, in spirit mightier than the mightiest warlike throng!\n\nAsk not if 'tis right or foolish when a Brahman tries his fate,\nIf it leads to woe or glory, fatal fall or fortune great,\n\nSon of _rishi_ Jamadagni baffled kings and chieftains high,\nAnd Agastya stainless _rishi_ drained the boundless ocean dry,\n\nLet this young and daring Brahman undertake the warlike deed,\nLet him try and by his prowess win the victor's noble meed!\"\n\nWhile the Brahmans deep revolving hopes and timid fears expressed,\nBy the bow the youthful Arjun stood unmoved like mountain crest,\n\nSilent round the wondrous weapon thrice the mighty warrior went,\nTo the Lord of Gods, ISANA, in a silent prayer he bent!\n\nThen the bow which gathered warriors vainly tried to bend and strain,\nAnd the monarchs of the wide earth sought to string and wield in vain,\n\nGodlike Arjun born of INDRA, filled with VISHNU'S matchless might,\nBent the wondrous bow of Drupad, fixed the shining darts aright,\n\nThrough the disc the shining arrows fly with strange and hissing sound,\nHit and pierce the distant target, bring it thundering on the ground!\n\nShouts of joy and loud applauses did the mighty feat declare,\nHeavenly blossoms soft descended, heavenly music thrilled the air,\n\nAnd the Brahmans shook their deerskins, but each irritated chief\nIn a lowly muttered whisper spake his rising rage and grief,\n\n_Sankha's_ note and voice of trumpet Arjun's glorious deed prolong,\nBards and heralds chant his praises in a proud and deathless song!\n\nDrupad in the Brahman's mantle knew the hero proud and brave,\n'Gainst the rage of baffled suitors sought the gallant prince to save,\n\nWith his twin-born youngest brothers left Yudhishthir, peaceful, good,\nBhima marked the gathering tempest and by gallant Arjun stood!\n\nLike a queen the beauteous maiden smiled upon the archer brave,\nFlung on him the bridal garland and the bridal robe she gave,\n\nArjun by his skill and prowess won Panchala's princess-bride,\nPeople's shouts and Brahmans' blessings sounded joyful far and wide!\n\nVII\n\nThe Tumult\n\nSpake the suitors, anger-shaken, like a forest tempest-torn,\nAs Panchala's courteous monarch came to greet a Brahman-born:\n\n\"Shall he like the grass of jungle trample us in haughty pride,\nTo a prating priest and Brahman wed the proud and peerless bride?\n\nTo our hopes like nourished saplings shall he now the fruit deny,\nMonarch proud who insults monarchs sure a traitor's death shall die,\n\nHonour for his rank we know not, have no mercy for his age,\nPerish foe of crowned monarchs, victim to our righteous rage!\n\nHath he asked us to his palace, favoured us with royal grace,\nFeasted us with princely bounty, but to compass our disgrace,\n\nIn this concourse of great monarchs, glorious like a heavenly band,\nDoth he find no likely suitor for his beauteous daughter's hand?\n\nAnd this rite of _swayamvara_, so our sacred laws ordain,\nIs for warlike Kshatras only, priests that custom shall not stain,\n\nIf this maiden on a Brahman casts her eye, devoid of shame,\nLet her expiate her folly in a pyre of blazing flame!\n\nLeave the priestling in his folly sinning through a Brahman's greed,\nFor we wage no war with Brahmans and forgive a foolish deed,\n\nMuch we owe to holy Brahmans for our realm and wealth and life,\nBlood of priest or wise preceptor shall not stain our noble strife,\n\nIn the blood of sinful Drupad we the righteous laws maintain,\nSuch disgrace in future ages monarchs shall not meet again!\"\n\nSpake the suitors, tiger-hearted, iron-handed, bold and strong'\nFiercely bent on blood and vengeance blindly rose the maddened throng,\n\nOn they came, the angry monarchs, armed for cruel vengeful strife,\nDrupad midst the holy Brahmans trembling fled for fear of life,\n\nLike wild elephants of jungle rushed the kings upon their foes,\nCalm and stately, stalwart Bhima and the gallant Arjun rose!\n\nWith a wilder rage the monarchs viewed these brothers cross their path,\nRushed upon the daring warriors for to slay them in their wrath,\n\nWeaponless was noble Bhima, but in strength like lightning's brand,\nTore a tree with peerless prowess, shook it as a mighty wand!\n\nAnd the foe-compelling warrior held that mace of living wood,\nStrong as death with deadly weapon, facing all his foes he stood,\n\nArjun too with godlike valour stood unmoved, his bow in hand,\nSide by side the dauntless brothers faced the fierce and fiery band!\n\nVIII\n\nKrishna to the Rescue\n\nKrishna knew the sons of Pandu though in robes of Brahmans dressed,\nTo his elder, Valadeva, thus his inner thoughts expressed:\n\n\"Mark that youth with bow and arrow and with lion's lordly gait,\nHe is helmet-wearing Arjun! greatest warrior midst the great,\n\nMark his mate, with tree uprooted how he meets the suitor band,\nSave the tiger-waisted Bhima none can claim such strength of hand!\n\nAnd the youth with eyes like lotus, he who left the court erewhile,\nHe is pious-souled Yudhishthir, man without a sin or guile,\n\nAnd the others by Yudhishthir, Pandu's twin-born sons are they,\nWith these sons the righteous Pritha 'scaped where death and danger lay,\n\nFor the jealous, fierce Duryodhan darkly schemed their death by fire,\nBut the righteous sons of Pandu 'scaped his unrelenting ire!\"\n\nKrishna rose amidst the monarchs, strove the tumult to appease,\nAnd unto the angry suitors spake in words of righteous peace,\n\nMonarchs bowed to Krishna's mandate, left Panchala's festive land,\nArjun took the beauteous princess, gently led her by the hand.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK III\n\nRAJASUYA\n\n(The Imperial Sacrifice)\n\n\nA curious incident followed the bridal of Draupadi. The five sons of\nPandu returned with her to the potter's house, where they were\nliving on alms according to the custom of Brahmans, and the brothers\nreported to their mother that they had received a great gift on that\nday. \"Enjoy ye the gift in common,\" replied their mother, not knowing\nwhat it was. And as a mother's mandate cannot be disregarded,\nDraupadi became the common wife of the five brothers.\n\nThe real significance of this strange legend is unknown. The custom\nof brothers marrying a common wife prevails to this day in Thibet and\namong the hill-tribes of the Himalayas, but it never prevailed among\nthe Aryan Hindus of India. It is distinctly prohibited in their laws\nand institutes, and finds no sanction in their literature, ancient or\nmodern. The legend in the _Maha-bharata_, of brothers marrying a wife\nin common, stands alone and without a parallel in Hindu traditions\nand literature.\n\nJudging from the main incidents of the Epic, Draupadi might rather be\nregarded as the wife of the eldest brother Yudhishthir. Bhima had\nalready mated himself to a female in a forest, by whom he had a son,\nGhatotkacha, who distinguished himself in war later on. Arjun too\nmarried the sister of Krishna, shortly after Draupadi's bridal, and\nhad by her a son, Abhimanyu, who was one of the heroes of the war. On\nthe other hand, Yudhishthir took to him self no wife save Draupadi,\nand she was crowned with Yudhishthir in the Rajasuya or Imperial\nSacrifice. Notwithstanding the legend, therefore, Draupadi might be\nregarded as wedded to Yudhishthir, though won by the skill of Arjun,\nand this assumption would be in keeping with Hindu customs and laws,\nancient and modern.\n\nThe jealous Duryodhan heard that his contrivance to kill his cousins\nat Varanavata had failed. He also heard that they had found a\npowerful friend in Drupad, and had formed an alliance with him. It\nwas no longer possible to keep them from their rightful inheritance.\nThe Kuru kingdom was accordingly parcelled; Duryodhan retained the\neastern and richer portion with its ancient capital _Hastina-pura_ on\nthe Ganges; and the sons of Pandu were given the western portion on\nthe Jumna, which was then a forest and a wilderness. The sons of\nPandu cleared the forest and built a new capital _Indra-prastha_, the\nsupposed ruins of which, near modern Delhi, are still pointed out to\nthe curious traveller.\n\nYudhishthir, the eldest of the five sons of Pandu, and now king of\nIndra-prastha, resolved to perform the Rajasuya sacrifice, which\nwas a formal assumption of the Imperial title over all the kings of\nancient India. His brothers went out with troops in all directions\nto proclaim his supremacy over all surrounding kings. Jarasandha,\nthe powerful and semi-civilised king of Magadha or South Behar,\nopposed and was killed; but other monarchs recognised the supremacy\nof Yudhishthir and came to the sacrifice with tributes. King\nDhrita-rashtra and his sons, now reigning at Hastina-pura, were\npolitely invited to take a share in the performance of the sacrifice.\n\nThe portion translated in this Book forms Sections xxxiii. To xxxvi.\nand Section xliv. of Book ii. of the original.\n\nI\n\nThe Assemblage of Kings\n\nAncient halls of proud Hastina mirrored bright on Ganga's wave!\nThither came the son of Pandu, young Nakula true and brave,\n\nCame to ask Hastina's monarch, chief of Kuru's royal race,\nTo partake Yudhishthir's banquet and his sacrifice to grace.\n\nDhrita-rashtra came in gladness unto Indra-prastha's town,\nMarked its new-built tower and turret on the azure Jumna frown,\n\nWith him came preceptor Kripa, and the ancient Bhishma came,\nElders of the race of Kuru, chiefs and Brahmans known to fame.\n\nMonarchs came from distant regions to partake the holy rite,\nWarlike chiefs from court and castle in their arms accoutred bright,\n\nKshatras came with ample tribute for the holy sacrifice,\nPrecious gems and costly jewels, gold and gifts of untold price.\n\nProud Duryodhan and his brothers came in fair and friendly guise,\nWith the ancient Kuru monarch and Vidura, good and wise,\n\nWith his son came brave Suvala from Gandhara's distant land,\nCar-borne Salya, peerless Karna, came with bow and spear and brand.\n\nCame the priest and proud preceptor Drona skilled in arms and lore,\nJayadratha famed for valour came from Sindhu's sounding shore,\n\nDrupad came with gallant princes from Panchala's land of fame,\nSalwa lord of outer nations to the mighty gathering came.\n\nBhagadatta came in chariot from the land of nations brave,\nPrag-jyotisha, where the red sun wakes on Brahma-putra's wave,\n\nWith him came untutored _mlechchas_ who beside the ocean dwell,\nUncouth chiefs of dusky nations from the lands where mountains swell,\n\nCame Virata, Matsya's monarch, and his warlike sons and bold,\nSisupala, king of Chedi, with his son bedecked in gold.\n\nCame the warlike chiefs of Vrishni from the shores of Western Sea,\nAnd the lords of Madhya-desa, ever warlike ever free!\n\nII\n\nFeast and Sacrifice\n\nJumna's dark and limpid waters laved Yudhishthir's palace walls\nAnd to hail him _Dharma-raja_, monarchs thronged his royal halls,\n\nHe to honoured kings and chieftains with a royal grace assigned\nPalaces with sparkling waters and with trees umbrageous lined,\n\nHonoured thus, the mighty monarchs lived in mansions milky white,\nLike the peaks of famed Kailasa lifting proud their snowy height!\n\nGraceful walls that swept the meadows circled round the royal halls,\nNets of gold belaced the casements, gems bedecked the shining walls,\n\nFlights of steps led up to chambers many-tinted-carpet-graced,\nAnd festooning fragrant garlands were harmonious interlaced!\n\nFar below from spacious gateways rose the people's gathering cry,\nAnd from far the swan-white mansions caught the ravished gazer's eye,\n\nRichly graced with precious metals shone the turrets bright and gay,\nLike the rich-ored shining turrets of the lofty Himalay.\n\nAnd the scene bedecked by _rishis_ and by priests and kings of might,\nShone like azure sky in splendour, graced by deathless Sons of Light!\n\nSpake Yudhishthir unto Bhishma, elder of the Kuru race,\nUnto Drona proud preceptor, rich in lore and warlike grace,\n\nSpake to wise preceptor Kripa, versed in sacred rites of old,\nTo Duryodhan and his brothers, honoured guests and kinsmen bold:\n\n\"Friends and kinsmen, grant your favour and your sweet affection lend,\nMay your kindness ever helpful poor Yudhishthir's rite attend,\n\nAs your own, command my treasure, costly gifts and wealth untold,\nTo the poor and to the worthy scatter free my gems and gold!\"\n\nSpeaking thus he made his _diksha_, and to holy work inclined,\nTo his friends and to his kinsmen all their various tasks assigned:\n\nProud Duhsasan in his bounty spread the rich and sumptuous feast,\nDrona's son with due devotion greeted saint and holy priest,\n\nSanjay with a regal honour welcomed king and chief of might,\nBhishma and the pious Drona watched the sacrificial rite,\n\nKripa guarded wealth and treasure, gold and gems of untold price,\nAnd with presents unto Brahmans sanctified the sacrifice,\n\nDhrita-rashtra, old and sightless, through the scene of gladness strayed,\nWith a careful hand Vidura all the mighty cost defrayed,\n\nProud Duryodhan took the tribute which the chiefs and monarchs paid,\nPious Krishna unto Brahmans honour and obeisance made.\n\n'Twas a gathering fair and wondrous on fair Jumna's sacred shore,\nTributes in a thousand _nishkas_ every willing monarch bore,\n\nCostly gifts proclaimed the homage of each prince of warlike might,\nChieftains vied with rival chieftains to assist the holy rite.\n\nBright Immortals, robed in sunlight, sailed across the liquid sky,\nAnd their gleaming cloud-borne chariots rested on the turrets high!\n\nHero-monarchs, holy Brahmans, filled the halls bedecked in gold,\nWhite-robed priests adept in _mantra_ mingled with the chieftains bold.\n\nAnd amidst this scene of splendour, pious-hearted, pure and good,\nLike the sinless god VARUNA, gentle-souled Yudhishthir stood,\n\nSix bright fires Yudhishthir lighted, offerings made to gods above,\nGifts unto the poor and lowly spake the monarch's boundless love.\n\nHungry men were fed and feasted with an ample feast of rice,\nCostly gifts to holy Brahmans graced the noble sacrifice,\n\n_Ida, ajya, homa_ offerings, pleased the \"Shining Ones\" on high,\nBrahmans pleased with costly presents with their blessings filled the sky!\n\nIII\n\nGlimpses of the Truth\n\nDawned the day of _abhisheka_, proud anointment, sacred bath,\nCrowned kings and learned Brahmans crowded on Yudhishthir's path,\n\nAnd as gods and heavenly _rishis_ throng in BRAHMA'S mansions bright,\nHoly priests and noble monarchs graced the inner sacred site!\n\nMeasureless their fame and virtue, great their penance and their power,\nAnd in converse deep and learned Brahmans passed the radiant hour,\n\nAnd on subjects great and sacred, oft divided in their thought,\nVarious sages in their wisdom various diverse maxims taught,\n\nWeaker reasons seemed the stronger, faultless reasons often failed,\nKeen disputants like the falcon fell on views their rivals held!\n\nSome were versed in Laws of Duty, some the Holy Vows professed,\nSome with gloss and varied comment still his learned rival pressed,\n\nBright the concourse of the Brahmans unto sacred learning given,\nLike the concourse of the bright stars in the glorious vault of heaven,\n\nNone of impure caste and conduct trespassed on the holy site,\nNone of impure life and manners stained Yudhishthir's sacred rite!\n\n_Deva-rishi_, saintly Narad, marked the sacrificial rite,\nSanctifying by its lustre good Yudhishthir's royal might,\n\nAnd a ray of heavenly wisdom lit the _rishi's_ inner eye,\nAs he saw the gathered monarchs in the concourse proud and high!\n\nHe had heard from lips celestial in the heavenly mansions bright,\nAll these kings were god incarnate, portions of Celestial Light,\n\nAnd he saw in them embodied beings of the upper sky,\nAnd in lotus-eyed Krishna saw the Highest of the High!\n\nSaw the ancient NARAYANA, great Creation's Primal Cause,\nWho had sent the gods as monarchs to uphold his righteous laws,\n\nBattle for the cause of virtue, perish in a deadly war,\nThen to seek their upper mansions in the radiant realms afar!\n\n\"NARAYANA, World's Preserver, sent immortal gods on earth,\nHe himself in race of Yadu hath assumed his mortal birth,\n\nLike the moon among the planets born in Vrishni's noble clan,--\nHe whom bright gods render worship,--NARAYANA, Son of Man,\n\nPrimal Cause and Self-created! when is done his purpose high,\nNARAYANA leads Immortals to their dwelling in the sky.\"\n\nSuch bright glimpses of the Secret flashed upon his inner sight,\nAs in lofty contemplation Narad gazed upon the rite.\n\nIV\n\nThe Arghya\n\nOutspake Bhishma to Yudhishthir: \"Monarch of this wide domain,\nHonour due to crowned monarchs doth our sacred law ordain,\n\nArghya to the wise Preceptor, to the Kinsman and to Priest,\nTo the Friend and to the Scholar, to the King as lord of feast,\n\nUnto these is due the _arghya_, so our holy writs have said,\nTherefore to these kings assembled be the highest honour paid,\n\nNoble are these crowned monarchs, radiant like the noonday sun,\nTo the noblest, first in virtue, be the foremost honour done!\"\n\n\"Who is noblest,\" quoth Yudhishthir, \"in this galaxy of fame,\nWho of chiefs and crowned monarchs doth our foremost honour claim?\"\n\nPond'ring spake the ancient Bhishma in his accents deep and clear:\n\"Greatest midst the great is Krishna! chief of men without a peer!\n\nMidst these monarchs pure in lustre, purest-hearted and most high\nLike the radiant sun is Krishna midst the planets of the sky,\n\nSunless climes are warmed to verdure by the sun's returning ray,\nWindless wastes are waked to gladness when reviving breezes play,\n\nEven so this _rajasuya_, this thy sacrificial rite,\nOwes its sanctity and splendour unto Krishna's holy might!\"\n\nBhishma spake and Sahadeva served his mandate quick as thought,\nAnd the _arghya_ duly flavoured unto peerless Krishna brought,\n\nKrishna trained in rules of virtue then the offered _arghya_ took,\nDarkened Sisupala's forehead and his frame in tremor shook,\n\nTo Yudhishthir and to Bhishma turns the chief his flaming eyes,\nTo the great and honoured Krishna, Sisupala wrathful cries.\n\nV\n\nSisupala's Pride\n\n\"Not to Vrishni's uncrowned hero should this reverence be paid,\nMidst these mighty crowned monarchs in their kingly pomp arrayed,\n\nIll beseems the good Yudhishthir, royal Pandu's righteous son,\nHomage to an uncrowned chieftain, to the lowly honour done!\n\nPandu's sons are yet untutored, and with knowledge yet unblessed,\nKnowing Bhishma blessed with wisdom hath the rules of courts transgressed,\n\nLearned in the Laws of Duty he hath sinned from partial love,\nConscious breach of rules of honour doth our deeper hatred move!\n\nIn this throng of crowned monarchs, ruling kings of righteous fame,\nCan this uncrowned Vrishni chieftain foremost rank and honour claim?\n\nDoth he as a sage and elder claim the homage to him done?\nSure his father Vasudeva hath his claims before his son!\n\nDoth he as Yudhishthir's kinsman count as foremost and the best?\nRoyal Drupad by alliance surely might the claim contest!\n\nDoth he as a wise preceptor claim the highest, foremost place,\nWhen the great preceptor Drona doth his royal mansion grace?\n\nUnto Krishna as a _rishi_ should the foremost rank be given?\nSaintly Vyasa claims the honour, Vedic bard inspired by Heaven!\n\nUnto Krishna should we render honour for his warlike fame?\nThou, O Bhishma! Death's Subduer, surely might precedence claim!\n\nUnto Krishna for his knowledge should the noble prize we yield?\nDrona's son unmatched in learning surely might contest the field!\n\nGreat Duryodhan midst the princes stands alone without a peer,\nKripa priest of royal Kurus, holiest of all priests is here!\n\nArcher Karna--braver archer none there is of mortal birth--\nKarna learnt his arms from Rama, he who slew the kings of earth!\n\nWherefore then to unknown Krishna render we this homage free!\nSaintly priest, nor wise preceptor, king nor foremost chief is he!\"\n\nVI\n\nSisupala's Fall\n\nTiger-hearted Sisupala spake in anger stem and high,\nCalm unto him Krishna answered, but a light was in his eye:\n\n\"List, O chiefs and righteous monarchs! from a daughter of our race\nEvil-destined Sisupala doth his noble lineage trace,\n\nSpite of wrong and frequent outrage, spite of insult often flung,\nNever in his heart hath Krishna sought to do his kinsman wrong!\n\nOnce I went to eastern regions, Sisupala like a foe\nBurnt my far-famed seaport Dwarka, laid the mart and temple low!\n\nOnce on Bhoja's trusting monarch faithless Sisupala fell,\nSlew his men and threw him captive in his castle's dungeon cell!\n\nOnce for holy _aswamedha_ Vasudeva sent his steed,\nSisupala stole the charger, sought to stop the righteous deed,\n\nOnce on saintly Babhru's consort, pious-hearted, pure and just,\nSisupala fell in madness, forced the lady to his lust,\n\nOnce Visala's beauteous princess went to seek her husband's side,\nIn her husband's garb disguised Sisupala clasped the bride!\n\nThis and more hath Krishna suffered, for his mother is our kin,\nBut the sickening tale appalleth, and he addeth sin to sin!\n\nOne more tale of sin I mention: by his impious passion fired,\nTo my saintly wife, Rukmini, Sisupala hath aspired,\n\nAs the low-born seeks the _Veda_, soiling it with impure breath,\nSisupala sought my consort, and his righteous doom is Death!\"\n\nKrishna spake; the rising red blood speaks each angry hero's shame,\nShame for Chedi's impious actions, grief for Sisupala's fame!\n\nLoudly laughed proud Sisupala, spake with bitter taunt and jeer,\nAnswered Krishna's lofty menace with disdain and cruel sneer:\n\n\"Wherefore in this vast assembly thus proclaim thy tale of shame,\nIf thy wedded wife and consort did inspire my youthful flame?\n\nDoth a man of sense and honour, blest with wisdom and with pride,\nThus proclaim his wedded consort was another's loving bride?\n\nDo thy worst! Or if by anger or by weak forbearance led,\nSisupala seeks no mercy, nor doth Krishna's anger dread!\"\n\nLowered Krishna's eye and forehead, and unto his hands there came\nFatal disc, the dread of sinners, disc that never missed its aim,\n\n\"Monarchs in this hall assembled!\" Krishna in his anger cried,\n\"Oft hath Chedi's impious monarch Krishna's noble rage defied,\n\nFor unto his pious mother plighted word and troth was given,\nSisupala's hundred follies would by Krishna be forgiven,\n\nI have kept the plighted promise, but his crimes exceed the tale,\nAnd beneath this vengeful weapon Sisupala now shall quail!\"\n\nThen the bright and whirling discus, as this mandate Krishna said,\nFell on impious Sisupala, from his body smote his head,\n\nFell the mighty-armed monarch like a thunder-riven rock,\nSevered from the parent mountain by the bolt's resistless shook!\n\nAnd his soul be-cleansed of passions came forth from its mortal shroud,\nLike the radiant sun in splendour from a dark and mantling cloud,\n\nUnto Krishna good and gracious, like a lurid spark aflame,\nChastened of its sin and anger, Sisupala's spirit came!\n\nRain descends in copious torrents, quick the lurid lightnings fly,\nAnd the wide earth feels a tremor, restless thunders shake the sky,\n\nVarious feelings away the monarchs as they stand in hushed amaze,\nMutely in those speechless moments on the lifeless warrior gaze!\n\nSome there are who seek their weapons, and their nervous fingers shake,\nAnd their lips they bite in anger, and their frames in tremor quake,\n\nOthers in their inmost bosom welcome Krishna's righteous deed,\nLook on death of Sisupala as a sinner's proper meed,\n\n_Rishis_ bless the deed of Krishna as they wend their various ways,\nBrahmans pure and pious-hearted chant the righteous Krishna's praise!\n\nSad Yudhishthir, gentle-hearted, thus unto his brothers said:\n\"Funeral rites and regal honours be performed unto the dead,\"\n\nDuteously his faithful brothers then performed each pious rite,\nHonours due to Chedi's monarch, to his rank and peerless might,\n\nSisupala's son they seated in his mighty father's place,\nAnd with holy _abhisheka_ hailed him king of Chedi's race!\n\nVII\n\nYudhishthir Emperor\n\nThus removed the hapless hindrance, now the holy sacrifice\nWas performed with joy and splendour and with gifts of gold and rice,\n\nGodlike Krishna watched benignly with his bow and disc and mace,\nAnd Yudhishthir closed the feasting with his kindliness and grace.\n\nBrahmans sprinkled holy water on the empire's righteous lord,\nAll the monarchs made obeisance, spake in sweet and graceful word:\n\n\"Born of race of Ajamidha! thou hast spread thy father's fame,\nRising by thy native virtue thou hast won a mightier name,\n\nAnd this rite unto thy station doth a holier grace instil,\nAnd thy royal grace and kindness all our hope and wish fulfil,\n\nGrant us, king of mighty monarchs, now unto our realms we go,\nEmperor o'er earthly rulers, blessings and thy grace bestow!\"\n\nGood Yudhishthir to the monarchs parting grace and honours paid,\nAnd unto his duteous brothers thus in loving-kindness said:\n\n\"To our feast these noble monarchs came from loyal love they bear,\nFar as confines of their kingdoms, with them let our friends repair.\"\n\nAnd his brothers and his kinsmen duteously his hest obey,\nWith each parting guest and monarch journey on the home ward way.\n\nArjun wends with high-souled Drupad, famed for lofty warlike grace,\nDhrishta-dyumna with Virata, monarch of the Matsya race,\n\nBhima on the ancient Bhishma and on Kuru's king doth wait,\nSahadeva waits on Drona, great in arms, in virtue great,\n\nWith Gandhara's warlike monarch brave Nakula holds his way,\nOther chiefs with other monarchs where their distant kingdoms lay.\n\nLast of all Yudhishthir's kinsman, righteous Krishna fain would part,\nAnd unto the good Yudhishthir opens thus his joyful heart:\n\n\"Done this glorious _rajasuya_, joy and pride of Kuru's race,\nGrant, O friend! to sea-girt Dwarka, Krishna now his steps must trace.\"\n\n\"By thy grace and by thy valour,\" sad Yudhishthir thus replies,\n\"By thy presence, noble Krishna, I performed this high emprise,\n\nBy thy all-subduing glory monarchs bore Yudhishthir's sway,\nCame with gifts and costly presents, came their tributes rich to pay,\n\nMust thou part? my uttered accents may not bid thee, friend, to go,\nIn thy absence vain were empire, and this life were full of woe,\n\nYet thou partest, sinless Krishna, dearest, best beloved friend,\nAnd to Dwarka's sea-washed mansions Krishna must his footsteps bend!\"\n\nThen unto Yudhishthir's mother, pious-hearted Krishna hies,\nAnd in accents love-inspiring thus to ancient Pritha cries:\n\n\"Regal fame and righteous glory crown thy sons, revered dame,\nJoy thee in their peerless prowess, in their holy spotless fame,\n\nMay thy sons' success and triumph cheer a widowed mother's heart,\nGrant me leave, O noble lady! for to Dwarka I depart.\"\n\nFrom Yudhishthir's queen Draupadi parts the chief with many a tear,\nAnd from Arjun's wife Subhadra, Krishna's sister ever dear,\n\nThen with rites and due ablutions to the gods are offerings made,\nPriests repeat their benedictions, for the righteous Krishna said,\n\nAnd his faithful chariot-driver brings his falcon-bannered car,\nLike the clouds in massive splendour and resistless in the war,\n\nPious Krishna mounts the chariot, fondly greets his friends once more,\nLeaves blue Jumna's sacred waters for his Dwarka's dear-loved shore,\n\nStill Yudhishthir and his brothers, sad and sore and grieved at heart,\nFollowed Krishna's moving chariot, for they could not see him part,\n\nKrishna stopped once more his chariot, and his parting blessing gave,\nThus the chief with eyes of lotus spake in accents calm and brave:\n\n_\"King of men! with sleepless watching ever guard thy kingdom flair,\nLike a father tend thy subjects with a father's love and care,_\n\n_Be unto them like the rain-drop nourishing the thirsty ground,\nBe unto them tree of shelter shading them from heat around,_\n\n_Like the blue sky ever bending be unto them ever kind,\nFree from pride and free from passion rule them with a virtuous mind!\"_\n\nSpake and left the saintly Krishna, pure and pious-hearted chief,\nSad Yudhishthir wended homeward and his heart was filled with grief.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK IV\n\nDYUTA\n\n(The Fatal Dice)\n\n\nDuryodhan came back from the Imperial Sacrifice filled with jealousy\nagainst Yudhishthir, and devised plans to effect his fall. Sakuni,\nprince of Gandhara, shared Duryodhan's hatred towards the sons of\nPandu, and helped him in his dark scheme. Yudhishthir with all his\npiety and righteousness had one weakness, the love of gambling, which\nwas one of the besetting sins of the monarchs of the day. Sakuni was\nan expert at false dice, and challenged Yudhishthir, and Yudhishthir\nheld it a point of honour not to decline such a challenge.\n\nHe came from his new capital, Indra-prastha, to Hastina-pura the\ncapital of Duryodhan, with his mother and brothers and Draupadi. And\nas Yudhishthir lost game after game, he was stung with his losses,\nand with the recklessness of a gambler still went on with the fatal\ngame. His wealth and hoarded gold and jewels, his steeds, elephants\nand cars, his slaves male and female, his empire and possessions,\nwere all staked and lost!\n\nThe madness increased, and Yudhishthir staked his brothers, and then\nhimself, and then the fair Draupadi, and lost! And thus the Emperor\nof Indra-prastha and his family were deprived of every possession\non earth, and became the bond-slaves of Duryodhan. The old king\nDhrita-rashtra released them from actual slavery, but the five\nbrothers retired to forests as homeless exiles.\n\nPortions of Section lxv. and the whole of Sections lxix., lxxvi., and\nlxxvii. of Book ii. of the original text have been translated in this\nBook.\n\nI\n\nDraupadi in the Council Hall\n\nGlassed on Ganga's limpid waters brightly shine Hastina's walls\nQueen Draupadi duly honoured lives within the palace halls,\n\nBut as steals a lowly jackal in a lordly lion's den,\nBase Duryodhan's humble menial came to proud Draupadi's ken.\n\n\"Pardon, Empress,\" quoth the menial, \"royal Pandu's righteous son,\nLost his game and lost his reason, Empress, thou art staked and won,\n\nPrince Duryodhan claims thee, lady, and the victor bids me say,\nThou shalt serve him as his vassal, as his slave in palace stay!\"\n\n\"Have I heard thee, menial, rightly?\" questioned she in anguish keen,\n\"Doth a crowned king and husband stake his wife and lose his queen,\n\nDid my noble lord and monarch sense and reason lose at dice,\nOther stake he did not wager, wedded wife to sacrifice!\"\n\n\"Other stakes were duly wagered,\" so he spake with bitter groan,\n\"Wealth and empire, every object which Yudhishthir called his own,\n\nLost himself and all his brothers, bondsmen are those princes brave,\nThen he staked his wife and empress, thou art prince Duryodhan's slave!\"\n\nRose the queen in queenly anger, and with woman's pride she spake\n\"Hie thee, menial, to thy master, Queen Draupadi's answer take,\n\nIf my lord, himself a bondsman, then hath staked his queen and wife,\nFalse the stake, for owns a bondsman neither wealth nor other's life,\n\nSlave can wager wife nor children, and such action is undone,\nTake my word to prince Duryodhan, Queen Draupadi is unwon!\"\n\nWrathful was the proud Duryodhan when he heard the answer bold,\nTo his younger, wild Duhsasan, this his angry mandate told:\n\n\"Little-minded is the menial, and his heart in terror fails,\nFor the fear of wrathful Bhima, lo! his coward-bosom quails,\n\nThou Duhsasan, bid the princess as our humble slave appear,\nPandu's sons are humble bondsmen, and thy heart it owns no fear!\"\n\nFierce Duhsasan heard the mandate, blood-shot was his flaming eye,\nForthwith to the inner chambers did with eager footsteps hie,\n\nProudly sat the fair Draupadi, monarch's daughter, monarch's wife,\nUnto her the base Duhsasan spake the message, insult-rife:\n\n\"Lotus-eyed Panchala-princess! fairly staked and won at game,\nCome and meet thy lord Duryodhan, chase that mantling blush of shame!\n\nServe us as thy lords and masters, be our beauteous bright-eyed slave,\nCome unto the Council Chamber, wait upon the young and brave!\"\n\nProud Draupadi shakes with tremor at Duhsasan's hateful sight,\nAnd she shades her eye and forehead, and her bloodless cheeks are white,\n\nAt his words her chaste heart sickens, and with wild averted eye,\nUnto rooms where dwelt the women, Queen Draupadi seeks to fly.\n\nVainly sped the trembling princess in her fear and in her shame,\nBy her streaming wavy tresses fierce Duhsasan held the dame!\n\nSacred looks! with holy water dewed at _rajasuya_ rite,\nAnd by _mantra_ consecrated, fragrant, flowing, raven-bright,\n\nBase Duhsasan by those tresses held the faint and flying queen,\nFeared no more the sons of Pandu, nor their vengeance fierce and keen,\n\nDragged her in her slipping garments by her long and trailing hair,\nAnd like sapling tempest-shaken, wept and shook the trembling fair!\n\nStooping in her shame and anguish, pale with wrath and woman's fear,\nTrembling and in stifled accents, thus she spake with streaming tear:\n\n\"Leave me, shameless prince Duhsasan! elders, noble lords are here,\nCan a modest wedded woman thus in loose attire appear?\"\n\nVain the words and soft entreaty which the weeping princess made,\nVainly to the gods and mortals she in bitter anguish prayed,\n\nFor with cruel words of insult still Duhsasan mocked her woo:\n\"Loosely clad or void of clothing,--to the council hall you go,\n\nSlave-wench fairly staked and conquered, wait upon thy masters brave,\nLive among our household menials, serve us as our willing slave!\"\n\nII\n\nDraupadi's Plaint\n\nLoose-attired, with trailing tresses, came Draupadi weak and faint,\nStood within the Council Chamber, tearful made her piteous plaint:\n\n\"Elders! versed in holy _sastra_, and in every holy rite,\nPardon if Draupadi cometh in this sad unseemly plight,\n\nStay thy sinful deed, Duhsasan, nameless wrongs and insults spare,\nTouch me not with hands uncleanly, sacred is a woman's hair,\n\nHonoured elders, righteous nobles, have on me protection given,\nTremble sinner, seek no mercy from the wrathful gods in heaven!\n\nHere in glory, son of DHARMA, sits my noble righteous lord,\nSin nor shame nor human frailty stains Yudhishthir's deed or word,\n\nSilent all? and will no chieftain rise to save a woman's life,\nNot a hand or voice is lifted to defend a virtuous wife?\n\nLost is Kuru's righteous glory, lost is Bharat's ancient name,\nLost is Kshatra's kingly prowess, warlike worth and knightly fame,\n\nWherefore else do Kuru warriors tamely view this impious scene,\nWherefore gleam not righteous weapons to protect an outraged queen?\n\nBhishma, hath he lost his virtue, Drona, hath he lost his might,\nHath the monarch of the Kurus ceased to battle for the right,\n\nWherefore are ye mute and voiceless, councillors of mighty fame?\nVacant eye and palsied right arm watch this deed of Kuru's shame!\"\n\nIII\n\nInsult and Vow of Revenge\n\nSpake Draupadi slender-waisted, and her words were stern and high,\nAnger flamed within her bosom and the tear was in her eye!\n\nAnd her sparkling, speaking glances fell on Pandu's sons like fire,\nStirred in them a mighty passion and a thirst for vengeance dire!\n\nLost their empire, wealth and fortune, little recked they for the fall,\nBut Draupadi's pleading glances like a poniard smote them all!\n\nDarkly frowned the ancient Bhishma, wrathful Drona bit his tongue,\nPale Vidura marked with anger insults on Draupadi flung!\n\nFulsome word nor foul dishonour could their truthful utterance taint,\nAnd they cursed Duhsasan's action, when they heard Draupadi's plaint!\n\nBut brave Karna, though a warrior,--Arjun's deadly foe was he,--\n'Gainst the humbled sons of Pandu spake his scorn thus bitterly:\n\n\"'Tis no fault of thine, fair princess! fallen to this servile state,\nWife and son rule not their actions, others rule their hapless fate!\n\nThy Yudhishthir sold his birthright, sold thee at the impious play,\nAnd the wife falls with the husband, and her duty--to obey!\n\nLive thou in this Kuru household, do the Kuru princes' will,\nServe them as thy lords and masters, with thy beauty please them still!\n\nFair One! seek another husband who in foolish reckless game\nWill not stake a loving woman, will not cast her forth in shame!\n\nFor they censure not a woman, when she is a menial slave,\nIf her woman's fancy wanders to the young and to the brave!\n\nFor thy lord is not thy husband, as a slave he hath no wife,\nThou art free with truer lover to enjoy a wedded life!\n\nThey whom at the _swayamvara_, chose ye, fair Panchala's bride,\nThey have lost thee, sweet Draupadi, lost their empire and their pride!\"\n\nBhima heard, and quick and fiercely heaved his bosom in his shame,\nAnd his red glance fell on Karna like a tongue of withering flame!\n\nBound by elder's plighted promise Bhima could not smite in ire,\nLooked a painted form of Anger flaming with an anguish dire!\n\n\"King and elder!\" uttered Bhima, and his words were few and brave,\n\"Vain were wrath and righteous passion in the sold and bounden slave!\n\nWould that son of chariot-driver fling on us this insult keen,\nHadst thou, noble king and elder, staked nor freedom nor our queen?\"\n\nSad Yudhishthir heard in anguish, bent in shame his lowly head,\nProud Duryodhan laughed in triumph, and in scornful accents said:\n\n\"Speak, Yudhishthir, for thy brothers own their elder's righteous sway,\nSpeak, for truth in thee abideth, virtue ever marks thy way,\n\nHast thou lost thy new-built empire, and thy brothers proud and brave?\nHast thou lost thy fair Draupadi, is thy wedded wife our slave?\"\n\nLip nor eye did move Yudhishthir, hateful truth would not deny,\nKarna laughed, but saintly Bhishma wiped his old and manly eye!\n\nMadness seized the proud Duryodhan, and inflamed by passion base,\nSought the prince to stain Draupadi with a deep and foul disgrace!\n\nOn the proud and peerless woman cast his loving, lustful eye,\nSought to hold the high-born princess as his slave upon his knee!\n\nBhima penned his wrath no longer, lightning-like his glance he flung,\nAnd the ancient hall of Kurus with his thunder accents rung:\n\n_\"May I never reach those mansions where my fathers live on high,\nMay I never meet ancestors in the bright and happy sky,_\n\n_If that knee, by which thou sinnest, Bhima breaks not in his ire,\nIn the battle's red arena with his weapon, deathful, dire!\"_\n\nRed fire flamed on Bhima's forehead, sparkled from his angry eye,\nAs from tough and gnarled branches fast the crackling red sparks fly!\n\nIV\n\nDhrita-rastra's Kindness\n\nHark! within the sacred chamber, where the priests in white attire\nWith libations morn and evening feed the sacrificial fire,\n\nAnd o'er sacred rights of _homa_ Brahmans chant their _mantra_ high,\nThere is heard the jackal's wailing and the raven's ominous cry!\n\nWise Vidura knew that omen, and the Queen Gandhari knew,\nBhishma muttered \"_svasti! svasti!_\" at this portent strange and new,\n\nDrona and preceptor Kripa uttered too that holy word,\nSpake her fears the Queen Gandhari to her spouse and royal lord.\n\nDhrita-rashtra heard and trembled with a sudden holy fear,\nAnd his feeble accents quavered, and his eyes were dimmed by tear:\n\n\"Son Duryodhan, ever luckless, godless, graceless, witless child,\nHast thou Drupad's virtuous daughter thus insulted and reviled,\n\nHast thou courted death and danger, for destruction clouds our path?\nMay an old man's soft entreaties still avert this sign of wrath!\"\n\nSlow and gently to Draupadi was the sightless monarch led,\nAnd in kind and gentle accents unto her the old man said:\n\n\"Noblest empress, dearest daughter, good Yudhishthir's stainless wife,\nPurest of the Kuru ladies, nearest to my heart and life,\n\nPardon wrong and cruel insult and avert the wrath of Heaven,\nVoice thy wish and ask for blessing, be my son's misdeed forgiven!\"\n\nAnswered him the fair Draupadi: \"Monarch of the Kuru's line,\nFor thy grace and for thy mercy every joy on earth be thine!\n\nSince thou bid'st me name my wishes, this the boon I ask of thee,\nThat my gracious lord Yudhishthir once again be bondage-free!\n\nI have borne a child unto him, noble boy and fair and brave,\nBe he prince of royal station, not the son of bounden slave!\n\nLet not light unthinking children point to him in utter scorn,\nCall him slave and _dasaputra_, of a slave and bondsman born!\"\n\n\"Virtuous daughter, have thy wishes,\" thus the ancient monarch cried,\n\"Name a second boon and blessing, and it shall be gratified.\"\n\n\"Grant me then, O gracious father! mighty Bhima, Arjun brave,\nAnd the youngest twin-born brothers,--none of them may be a slave!\n\nWith their arms and with their chariots let the noble princes part,\nFreemen let them range the country, strong of hand and stout of heart!\"\n\n\"Be it so, high-destined princess!\" ancient Dhrita-rashtra cried,\n\"Name another boon and blessing, and it shall be gratified,\n\nForemost of my queenly daughters, dearest-cherished and the best,\nMeeting thus thy gentle wishes now I feel my house is blest!\"\n\n\"Not so,\" answered him the princess, \"other boon I may not seek,\nThou art bounteous, and Draupadi should be modest, wise and meek,\n\nTwice I asked, and twice you granted, and a Kshatra asks no more,\nUnto Brahmans it is given, asking favours evermore!\n\nNow my lord and warlike brothers, from their hateful bondage freed,\nSeek their fortune by their prowess and by brave and virtuous deed!\"\n\nV\n\nThe Banishment\n\nNow Yudhishthir 'reft of empire, far from kinsmen, hearth and home,\nWith his wife and faithful brothers must as houseless exiles roam.\n\nParting blessings spake Yudhishthir, \"Elder of the Kuru line,\nNoble grandsire stainless Bhishma, may thy glories ever shine!\n\nDrona priest and great preceptor, saintly Kripa true and brave,\nKuru's monarch Dhrita-rashtra, may the gods thy empire save!\n\nGood Vidura true and faithful, may thy virtue serve thee well!\nWarlike sons of Dhrita-rashtra, let me bid you all farewell!\"\n\nSo he spake unto his kinsmen, wishing good for evil done,\nAnd in silent shame they listened, parting words they uttered none!\n\nPained at heart was good Vidura, and he asked in sore distress:\n\"_Arya_ Pritha, will she wander in the pathless wilderness?\n\nRoyal-born, unused to hardship, weak and long unused to roam,\nAged is thy saintly mother, let fair Pritha stay at home.\n\nAnd by all beloved, respected, in my house shall Pritha dwell,\nTill your years of exile over, ye shall greet her safe and well.\"\n\nAnswered him the sons of Pandu: \"Be it even as you say,\nUnto us thou art a father, we thy sacred will obey,\n\nGive us then thy holy blessings, friend and father, ere we part,\nBlessings from the true and righteous brace the feeble, fainting heart.\"\n\nSpake Vidura, pious-hearted: \"Best of Bharat's ancient race,\nLet me bless thee and thy brothers, souls of truth and righteous grace!\n\nFortune brings no weal to mortals who may win by wicked wile,\nSorrow brings no shame to mortals who are free from sin and guile!\n\nThou art trained in laws of duty, Arjun is unmatched in war,\nAnd on Bhima in the battle kindly shines his faithful star,\n\nAnd the Twins excel in wisdom, born to rule a mighty State,\nFair Draupadi, ever faithful, wins the smiles of fickle Fate!\n\nEach with varied gifts endowed, each beloved of one and all,\nYe shall win a spacious empire, greater, mightier, after fall.\n\nThis your exile, good Yudhishthir, is ordained to serve your weal,\nIs a trial and _samadhi_, for it chastens but to heal!\n\nMeru taught thee righteous maxims where Himalay soars above,\nAnd in Varnavata's forest Vyasa taught thee holy love,\n\nRama preached the laws of duty far on Bhrigu's lofty hill,\nSambhu showed the 'way' where floweth Drisad-vati's limpid rill,\n\nFell from lips of saint Asita, words of wisdom deep and grave,\nBhrigu touched with fire thy bosom by the dark Kalmashi's wave,\n\nNow once more the teaching cometh, purer, brighter, oftener taught,\nLearn the truth from heavenly Narad, happy is thy mortal lot!\n\nGreater than the son of Ila, than the kings of earth in might,\nHolier than the holy _rishis_, be thou in thy virtue bright!\n\nINDRA help thee in thy battles, proud subduer of mankind,\nYAMA in the mightier duty, in the conquest of thy mind!\n\nGood KUVERA teach thee kindness, hungry and the poor to feed,\nKing VARNUA quell thy passions, free thy heart from sin and greed!\n\nLike the Moon in holy lustre, like the Earth in patience deep,\nLike the Sun be full of radiance, strong like wind's resistless sweep!\n\nIn thy sorrow, in affliction, ever deeper lessons learn,\nRighteous be your life in exile, happy be your safe return!\n\nMay these eyes again behold thee in Hastina's ancient town,\nConqueror of earthly trials, crowned with virtue's heavenly crown!\"\n\nSpake Vidura to the brothers, and they felt their might increase,\nBowed to him in salutation, filled with deeper, holier peace,\n\nBowed to Bhishma and to Drona, and to chiefs and elders all,\nExiles to the pathless jungle left their father's ancient hall!\n\nVI\n\nPritha's Lament\n\nIn the inner palace chambers where the royal ladies dwell,\nUnto Pritha, came Draupadi, came to speak her sad farewell,\n\nMonarch's daughter, monarch's consort, as an exile she must go,\nPritha wept and in the chambers rose the wailing voice of woe!\n\nHeaving sobs convulsed her bosom as a silent prayer she prayed,\nAnd in accents choked by anguish thus her parting words she said:\n\n\"Grieve not, child, if bitter fortune so ordains that we must part,\nVirtue hath her consolations for the true and loving heart!\n\nAnd I need not tell thee, daughter, duties of a faithful wife,\nDrupad's and thy husband's mansions thou hast brightened by thy life!\n\nNobly from the sinning Kurus thou hast turned thy righteous wrath,\nSafely, with a mother's blessing, tread the trackless jungle path!\n\nDangers bring no woe or sorrow to the true and faithful wife,\nSinless deed and holy conduct ever guard her charmed life!\n\nNurse thy lord with woman's kindness, and his brothers, where ye go,\nYoung in years in Sahadeva, gentle and unused to woe!\"\n\n\"Thy fond blessings help me, mother,\" so the fair Draupadi said,\n\"Safe in righteous truth and virtue, forest paths we fearless tread!\"\n\nWet her eyes and loose her tresses, fair Draupadi bowed and left,\nAncient Pritha weeping followed of all earthly joy bereft,\n\nAs she went, her duteous children now before their mother came,\nClad in garments of the deer-skin, and their heads were bent in shame!\n\nSorrow welling in her bosom choked her voice and filled her eye,\nTill in broken stifled accents faintly thus did Pritha cry:\n\n\"Ever true to path of duty, noble children void of stain,\nTrue to gods, to mortals faithful, why this unmerited pain,\n\nWherefore hath untimely sorrow like a darksome cloud above,\nCast its pale and deathful shadow on the children of my love?\n\nWoe to me, your wretched mother, woe to her who gave you birth,\nStainless sons, for sins of Pritha have ye suffered on this earth!\n\nShall ye range the pathless forest dreary day and darksome night,\nReft of all save native virtue, clad in native, inborn might?\n\nWoe to me, from rocky mountains where I dwelt by Pandu's side,\nWhen I lost him, to Hastina wherefore came I in my pride?\n\nHappy is your sainted father; dwells in regions of the sky,\nSees nor feels these earthly sorrows gathering on us thick and high!\n\nHappy too is faithful Madri; for she trod the virtuous way,\nFollowed Pandu to the bright sky, and is now his joy and stay!\n\nYe alone are left to Pritha, dear unto her joyless heart,\nMother's hope and widow's treasure, and ye may not, shall not part!\n\nLeave me not alone on wide earth, loving sons, your virtues prove,\nDear Draupadi, loving daughter, let a mother's tear-drops move!\n\nGrant me mercy, kind Creator, and my days in mercy close,\nEnd my sorrows, kind VIDHATA, end my life with all my woes!\n\nHelp me, pious-hearted Krishna, friend of friendless, wipe my pain,\nAll who suffer pray unto thee and they never pray in vain!\n\nHelp me, Bhishma, warlike Drona, Kripa ever good and wise,\nYe are friends of truth and virtue, righteous truth ye ever prize!\n\nHelp me from thy starry mansions, husband, wherefore dost thou wait,\nSeest thou not thy godlike children exiled by a bitter fate!\n\nPart not, leave me not, my children, seek ye not the trackless way,\nStay but one, if one child only, as your mother's hope and stay!\n\nYoungest, gentlest Sahadeva, dearest to this widowed heart,\nWilt thou watch beside thy mother, while thy cruel brothers part?\"\n\nWhispering words of consolation, Pritha's children wiped her eye,\nThen unto the pathless jungle turned their steps with bitter sigh!\n\nKuru dames with fainting Pritha to Vidura's palace hie,\nKuru queens for weeping Pritha raise their voice in answering cry,\n\nKuru maids for fair Draupadi fortune's fitful will upbraid,\nAnd their tear-dewed lotus-faces with their streaming fingers shade!\n\nDhrita-rashtra, ancient monarch, is by sad misgivings pained,\nQuestions oft with anxious bosom what the cruel fates ordained.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK V\n\nPATIVRATA-MAHATMYA\n\n(Woman's Love)\n\n\nTrue to their word the sons of Pandu went with Draupadi into exile,\nand passed twelve years in the wilderness; and many were the\nincidents which checkered their forest life. Krishna, who had stood\nby Yudhishthir in his prosperity, now came to visit him in his\nadversity; he consoled Draupadi in her distress, and gave good advice\nto the brothers. Draupadi with a woman's pride and anger still\nthought of her wrongs and insults, and urged Yudhishthir to disregard\nthe conditions of exile and recover his kingdom. Bhima too was of the\nsame mind, but Yudhishthir would not be moved from his plighted word.\n\nThe great _rishi_ Vyasa came to visit Yudhishthir, and advised Arjun,\ngreat archer as he was, to acquire celestial arms by penance and\nworship. Arjun followed the advice, met the god SIVA in the guise\nof a hunter, pleased him by his prowess in combat, and obtained his\nblessings and the _pasupata_ weapon. Arjun then went to INDRA'S\nheaven and obtained other celestial arms.\n\nIn the meanwhile Duryodhan, not content with sending his cousins to\nexile, wished to humiliate them still more by appearing before them\nin all his regal power and splendour. Matters how ever turned out\ndifferently from what he expected, and he became involved in a\nquarrel with some _gandharvas_, a class of aerial beings. Duryodhan\nwas taken captive by them, and it was the Pandav brothers who\nreleased him from his captivity, and allowed him to return to his\nkingdom in peace. This act of generosity rankled in his bosom and\ndeepened his hatred.\n\nJayadratha, king of the Sindhu or Indus country, and a friend and\nally of Duryodhan, came to the woods, and in the absence of the\nPandav brothers carried off Draupadi. The Pandavs however pursued the\nking, chastised him for his misconduct, and rescued Draupadi.\n\nStill more interesting than these various incidents are the tales and\nlegends with which this book is replete. Great saints came to see\nYudhishthir in his exile, and narrated to him legends of ancient\ntimes and of former kings. One of these beautiful episodes, the tale\nof Nala and Damayanti, has been translated into graceful English\nverse by Dean Milman, and is known to many English readers. The\nlegend of Agastya who drained the ocean dry; of Parasu-Rama a\nBrahman who killed the Kshatriyas of the earth; of Bhagiratha who\nbrought down the Ganges from the skies to the earth; of Manu and the\nuniversal deluge; of Vishnu and various other gods; of Rama and his\ndeeds which form the subject of the Epic _Ramayana_;--these and\nvarious other legends have been inter woven in the account of the\nforest-life of the Pandavs, and make it a veritable storehouse of\nancient Hindu tales and traditions.\n\nAmong these various legends and tales I have selected one which is\nsingular and striking. The great truth proclaimed under the thin\nguise of an eastern allegory is that a True Woman's Love is not\nconquered by Death. The story is known by Hindu women high and low,\nrich and poor, in all parts of India; and on a certain night in the\nyear millions of Hindu women celebrate a rite in honour of the woman\nwhose love was not conquered by death. Legends like these, though\nthey take away from the unity and conciseness of the Epic, impart a\nmoral instruction to the millions of India the value of which cannot\nbe overestimated.\n\nThe portion translated in this Book forms Sections ccxcii. And\nccxciii., a part of Section ccxciv. and Sections ccxcv. and ccxcvi.\nof Book iii. of the original text.\n\nI\n\nForest Life\n\nIn the dark and pathless forest long the Pandav brothers strayed,\nIn the bosom of the jungle with the fair Draupadi stayed,\n\nAnd they killed the forest red-deer, hewed the gnarled forest wood,\nFrom the stream she fetched the water, cooked the humble daily food,\n\nIn the morn she swept the cottage, lit the cheerful fire at eve,\nBut at night in lonesome silence oft her woman's heart would grieve,\n\nInsults rankled in her bosom and her tresses were unbound,--\nSo she vowed,--till fitting vengeance had the base insulters found!\n\nOft when evening's shades descended, mantling o'er the wood and lea,\nWhen Draupadi by the cottage cooked the food beneath the tree,\n\n_Rishis_ came to good Yudhishthir, sat beside his evening fires,\nMany olden tales recited, legends of our ancient sires.\n\nMarkandeya, holy _rishi_, once unto Yudhishthir came,\nWhen his heart was sorrow-laden with the memories of his shame,\n\n\"Pardon, rishi!\" said Yudhishthir, \"if unbidden tears will start,\nBut the woes of fair Draupadi grieve a banished husband's heart,\n\nBy her tears the saintly woman broke my bondage worse than death,\nBy my sins she suffers exile and misfortune's freezing breath!\n\nDost thou, sage and saintly _rishi_, know of wife or woman born,\nBy such nameless sorrow smitten, by such strange misfortune torn?\n\nHast thou in thy ancient legends heard of true and faithful wife,\nWith a stronger wife's affection, with a sadder woman's life?\"\n\n\"Listen, monarch!\" said the _rishi_, \"to a tale of ancient date,\nHow Savitri loved and suffered, how she strove and conquered Fate!\"\n\nII\n\nThe Tale of Savitri\n\nIn the country of the Madras lived a king in days of old,\nFaithful to the holy BRAHMA, pure in heart and righteous-souled,\n\nHe was loved in town and country, in the court and hermit's den,\nSacrificer to the bright gods, helper to his brother men,\n\nBut the monarch, Aswapati, son or daughter had he none,\nOld in years and sunk in anguish, and his days were almost done!\n\nVows he took and holy penance, and with pious rules conformed,\nSpare in diet as _brahmachari_ many sacred rites performed,\n\nSang the sacred hymn, _savitri_, to the gods oblations gave,\nThrough the lifelong day he fasted, uncomplaining, meek and brave!\n\nYear by year he gathered virtue, rose in merit and in might,\nTill the goddess of _savitri_ smiled upon his sacred rite,\n\nFrom the fire upon the altar, which a holy radiance flung,\nIn the form of beauteous maiden, goddess of _savitri_ sprung!\n\nAnd she spake in gentle accents, blessed the monarch good and brave,\nBlessed his rites and holy penance and a boon unto him gave:\n\n\"Penance and thy sacrifices can the powers immortal move,\nAnd the pureness of thy conduct doth thy heart's affection prove,\n\nAsk thy boon, king Aswapati, from creation's Ancient Sire,\nTrue to virtue's sacred mandate speak thy inmost heart's desire.\"\n\n\"For an offspring brave and kingly,\" so the saintly king replied,\n\"Holy rites and sacrifices and this penance I have tried,\n\nIf these rites and sacrifices move thy favour and thy grace,\nGrant me offspring, Prayer-Maiden, worthy of my noble race!\"\n\n\"Have thy object,\" spake the maiden, \"Madra's pious-hearted king,\nFrom SWAYMBHU, Self-created, blessings unto thee I bring!\n\nFor HE lists to mortal's prayer springing from a heart like thine,\nAnd HE wills,--a noble daughter grace thy famed and royal line!\n\nAswapati, glad and grateful, take the blessing which I bring,\nPart in joy and part in silence, bow unto Creation's King!\"\n\nVanished then the Prayer-Maiden, and the king of noble fame,\nAswapati, Lord of coursers, to his royal city came,\n\nDays of hope and nights of gladness Madra's happy monarch passed,\nTill his queen of noble offspring gladsome promise gave at last!\n\nAs the moon each night increaseth, chasing darksome nightly gloom,\nGrew the unborn babe in splendour in its happy mother's womb,\n\nAnd in fulness of the season came a girl with lotus-eye,\nFather's hope and joy of mother, gift of kindly gods on high!\n\nAnd the king performed its birth-rites with a glad and grateful mind,\nAnd the people blessed the dear one with their wishes good and kind,\n\nAs _Savitri_, Prayer-Maiden, had the beauteous offspring given,\nBrahmans named the child _Savitri_, holy gift of bounteous Heaven!\n\nGrew the child in brighter beauty like a goddess from above,\nAnd each passing season added fresher sweetness, deeper love,\n\nCame with youth its lovelier graces, as the buds their leaves unfold,\nSlender waist and rounded bosom, image as of burnished gold,\n\n_Deva-Kanya!_ born a goddess, so they said in all the land,\nPrincely suitors struck with splendour ventured not to seek her hand!\n\nOnce upon a time it happened on a bright and festive day,\nFresh from bath the beauteous maiden to the altar came to pray,\n\nAnd with cakes and pure libations duly fed the Sacred Flame,\nThen like SRI in heavenly radiance to her royal father came,\n\nBowed unto his feet in silence, sacred flowers beside him laid,\nAnd her hands she folded meekly, sweetly her obeisance made,\n\nWith a father's pride, upon her gazed the ruler of the land,\nBut a strain of sadness lingered, for no suitor claimed her hand.\n\n\"Daughter,\" whispered Aswapati, \"now, methinks, the time is come,\nThou shouldst choose a princely suitor, grace a royal husband's home,\n\nChoose thyself a noble husband worthy of thy noble hand,\nChoose a true and upright monarch, pride and glory of his land,\n\nAs thou choosest, gentle daughter, in thy loving heart's desire,\nBlessing and his free permission will bestow thy happy sire!\n\nFor our sacred _sastras_ sanction, holy Brahmans oft relate,\nThat the duty-loving father sees his girl in wedded state,\n\nThat the duty-loving husband watches o'er his consort's ways,\nThat the duty-loving offspring tends his mother's widowed days,\n\nTherefore choose a loving husband, daughter of my house and love,\nSo thy father earn no censure or from men or gods above!\"\n\nFair Savitri bowed unto him, and for parting blessings prayed,\nThen she left her father's palace, and in distant regions strayed,\n\nWith her guard and aged courtiers whom her watchful father sent,\nMounted on her golden chariot unto sylvan woodlands went.\n\nThen in pleasant woods and jungle wandered she from day to day,\nUnto _asrams_, hermitages, pious-hearted held her way,\n\nOft she stayed in holy _tirthas_ washed by sacred limpid streams,\nFood she gave unto the hungry, wealth beyond their fondest dreams!\n\nMany days and months are over, and it once did so befall,\nWhen the king and _rishi_ Narad sat within the royal hall,\n\nFrom her journeys near and distant and from places known to fame,\nFair Savitri with the courtiers to her father's palace came,\n\nCame and saw her royal father, _rishi_ Narad by his seat,\nBent her head in salutation, bowed unto their holy feet.\n\nIII\n\nThe Fated Bridegroom\n\n\"Whence comes she,\" so Narad questioned, \"whither was Savitri led,\nWherefore to a happy husband hath Savitri not been wed?\"\n\n\"Nay! to choose her lord and husband,\" so the virtuous monarch said,\n\"Fair Savitri long hath wandered and in holy _tirthas_ stayed,\n\nMaiden! speak unto the _rishi_, and thy choice and secret tell!\"\nThen a blush suffused her forehead, soft and slow her accents fell!\n\n\"Listen, father! Salwa's monarch was of old a king of might,\nRighteous-hearted Dyumat-sena, feeble now and void of sight,\n\nFoemen robbed him of his kingdom when in age he lost his sight,\nAnd from town and spacious empire was the monarch forced to flight,\n\nWith his queen and with his infant did the feeble monarch stray,\nAnd the jungle was his palace, darksome was his weary way.\n\nHoly vows assumed the monarch and in penance passed his life,\nIn the wild woods nursed his infant and with wild fruits fed his wife,\n\nYears have gone in rigid penance, and that child is now a youth,\nHim I choose my lord and husband, Satyavan, Soul of Truth!\"\n\nThoughtful was the _rishi_ Narad, doleful were the words he said:\n\"Sad disaster waits Savitri if this royal youth she wed!\n\nTruth-beloving is his father, truthful is the royal dame,\nTruth and virtue rule his actions, Satyavan is his name,\n\nSteeds he loved in days of boyhood and to paint them was his joy,\nHence they called him young Chitraswa, art-beloving gallant boy!\n\nBut O pious-hearted monarch! fair Savitri hath in sooth\nCourted Fate and sad disaster in that noble gallant youth!\"\n\n\"Tell me,\" questioned Aswapati, \"for I may not guess thy thought,\nWherefore is my daughter's action with a sad disaster fraught?\n\nIs the youth of noble lustre, gifted in the gifts of art,\nBlest with wisdom, prowess, patience daring, dauntless in his heart?\"\n\n\"SURYA'S lustre in him shineth,\" so the _rishi_ Narad said,\n\"BRIHASPATI'S wisdom dwelleth in the young Satyavan's head,\n\nLike MAHENDRA in his prowess, and in patience like the Earth,\nYet O king! a sad disaster marks the gentle youth from birth!\"\n\n\"Tell me, _rishi_, then thy reason,\" so the anxious monarch cried,\n\"Why to youth so great and gifted may this maid be not allied?\n\nIs Satyavan free in bounty, gentle-hearted, full of grace,\nDuly versed in sacred knowledge, fair in mind and fair in face?\"\n\n\"Free in gifts like Rantideva,\" so the holy _rishi_ said,\n\"Versed in lore like monarch Sivi, who all ancient monarchs led,\n\nLike Yayati open-hearted and like CHANDRA in his grace,\nLike the handsome heavenly ASVINS fair and radiant in his face,\n\nMeek and graced with patient virtue he controls his noble mind,\nModest in his kindly actions, true to friends and ever kind,\n\nAnd the hermits of the forest praise him for his righteous truth,\nNathless, king, thy daughter may not wed this noble-hearted youth!\"\n\n\"Tell me, _rishi_,\" said the monarch, \"for thy sense from me is hid,\nHas this prince some fatal blemish, wherefore is this match forbid?\"\n\n\"Fatal fault!\" exclaimed the _rishi_, \"fault that wipeth all his grace,\nFault, that human power nor effort, rite nor penance can efface!\n\nFatal fault or destined sorrow! for it is decreed on high,\nOn this day, a twelve-month later, this ill-fated prince will die!\"\n\nShook the startled king in terror, and in fear and trembling cried:\n\"Unto short-lived, fated bridegroom ne'er my child shall be allied!\n\nCome, Savitri, dear-loved maiden! choose another happier lord,\n_Rishi_ Narad speaketh wisdom, list unto his holy word!\n\nEvery grace and every virtue is effaced by cruel Fate,\nOn this day, a twelve-month later, leaves the prince his mortal state!\"\n\n\"Father!\" answered thus the maiden, soft and sad her accents fell,\n\"I have heard thy honoured mandate, holy Narad counsels well,\n\n_Pardon witless maiden's feelings! but beneath the eye of Heaven,\nOnly once a maiden chooseth, twice her troth may not be given!_\n\n_Long his life or be it narrow, and his virtues great or none,\nBrave Satyavan is my husband, he my heart and troth hath won!_\n\n_What a maiden's heart hath chosen that a maiden's lips confess,\nTrue to him, thy poor Savitri goes into the wilderness!\"_\n\n\"Monarch!\" uttered then the _rishi_, \"fixed is she in mind and heart,\nFrom her troth the true Savitri never, never will depart!\n\nMore than mortal's share of virtue unto Satyavan is given,\nLet the true maid wed her chosen, leave the rest to gracious Heaven!\"\n\n\"_Rishi_ and preceptor holy!\" so the weeping monarch prayed,\n\"Heaven avert all future evils, and thy mandate is obeyed!\"\n\nNarad wished him joy and gladness, blessed the loving youth and maid,\nForest hermits on their wedding every fervent blessing laid.\n\nIV\n\nOvertaken by Fate\n\nTwelve-month in the darksome forest by her true and chosen lord,\nLived Savitri, served his parents by her thought and deed and word,\n\nBark of tree supplied her garments draped upon her bosom fair,\nOr the red cloth as in _asrams_ holy women love to wear,\n\nAnd the aged queen she tended with a fond and filial pride,\nServed the old and sightless monarch like a daughter by his side,\n\nAnd with love and gentle sweetness pleased her husband and her lord,\nBut in secret, night and morning, pondered still on Narad's word!\n\nNearer came the fatal morning by the holy Narad told,\nFair Savitri reckoned daily and her heart was still and cold,\n\nThree short days remaining only! and she took a vow severe\nOf _triratra_, three nights' penance, holy fasts and vigils drear!\n\nOf Savitri's rigid penance heard the king with anxious woe,\nSpake to her in loving accents, so the vow she might forgo:\n\n\"Hard the penance, gentle daughter, and thy woman's limbs are frail,\nAfter three nights' fasts and vigils sure thy tender health may fail!\"\n\n\"Be not anxious, loving father,\" meekly thus Savitri prayed,\n\"Penance I have undertaken, will unto the gods be made.\"\n\nMuch misdoubting then the monarch gave his sad and slow assent,\nPale with fast and unseen tear-drops, lonesome nights Savitri spent.\n\nNearer came the fatal morning, and to-morrow he shall die,\nDark, dark hours of nightly silence! Tearless, sleepless is her eye!\n\n\"Dawns that dread and fated morning!\" said Savitri, bloodless, brave,\nPrayed her fervent prayers in silence, to the Fire oblations gave,\n\nBowed unto the forest Brahmans, to the parents kind and good,\nJoined her hands in salutation and in reverent silence stood.\n\nWith the usual morning blessing, \"_Widow may'st thou never be_,\"\nAnchorites and aged Brahmans blessed Savitri fervently,\n\nO! that blessing fell upon her like the rain on thirsty air,\nStruggling hope inspired her bosom as she drank those accents fair!\n\nBut returned the dark remembrance of the _rishi_ Narad's word,\nPale she watched the creeping sunbeams, mused upon her fated lord!\n\n\"Daughter, now thy fast is over,\" so the loving parents said,\n\"Take thy diet after penance, for thy morning prayers are prayed,\"\n\n\"Pardon, father,\" said Savitri, \"let this other day be done,\"\nUnshed tear-drops filled her eyelids, glistened in the morning sun!\n\nYoung Satyavan, tall and stately, ponderous axe on shoulder hung,\nFor the distant darksome jungle issued forth serene and strong,\n\nBut unto him came Savitri and in sweetest accents prayed,\nAs upon his manly bosom gently she her forehead laid:\n\n\"Long I wished to see the jungle where steals not the solar ray,\nTake me to the darksome forest, husband, let me go to-day!\"\n\n\"Come not, love,\" he sweetly answered with a loving husband's care,\n\"Thou art all unused to labour, forest paths thou may'st not dare,\n\nAnd with recent fasts and vigils pale and bloodless is thy face,\nAnd thy steps are weak and feeble, jungle paths thou may'st not trace.\"\n\n\"Fasts and vigils make me stronger,\" said the wife with wifely pride,\n\"Toil I shall not feel nor languor when my lord is by my side,\n\nFor I feel a woman's longing with my lord to trace the way,\nGrant me, husband ever gracious, with thee let me go to-day!\"\n\nAnswered then the loving husband, as his hands in hers he wove,\n\"Ask permission from my parents in the trackless woods to rove.\"\n\nThen Savitri to the monarch urged her longing strange request,\nAfter duteous salutation thus her humble prayer addrest:\n\n\"To the jungle goes my husband, fuel and the fruit to seek,\nI would follow if my mother and my loving father speak,\n\nTwelve-month from this narrow _asram_ hath Savitri stepped nor strayed,\nIn this cottage true and faithful ever hath Savitri stayed,\n\nFor the sacrificial fuel wends my lord his lonesome way,\nPlease my kind and loving parents, I would follow him to-day.\"\n\n\"Never since her wedding morning,\" so the loving king replied,\n\"Wish or thought Savitri whispered, for a boon or object sighed,\n\nDaughter, thy request is granted, safely in the forest roam,\nSafely with thy lord and husband, seek again thy cottage home.\"\n\nBowing to her loving parents did the fair Savitri part,\nSmile upon her pallid features, anguish in her inmost heart!\n\nRound her sylvan green woods blossomed 'neath a cloudless Indian sky,\nFlocks of pea-fowls gorgeous plumaged flew before her wondering eye,\n\nWoodland rills and crystal nullahs gently roll'd o'er rocky bed,\nFlower-decked hills in dewy brightness towering glittered overhead,\n\nBirds of song and beauteous feather trilled a note in every grove,\nSweeter accents fell upon her, from her husband's lips of love!\n\nStill with thoughtful eye Savitri watched her dear and fated lord,\nFlail of grief was in her bosom but her pale lips shaped no word,\n\nAnd she listened to her husband, still on anxious thought intent,\nCleft in two her throbbing bosom, as in silence still she went!\n\nGaily with the gathered wild-fruits did the prince his basket fill,\nHewed the interlaced branches with his might and practised skill,\n\nTill the drops stood on his forehead, weary was his aching head,\nFaint he came unto Savitri and in faltering accents said:\n\n\"Cruel ache is on my forehead, fond and ever faithful wife,\nAnd I feel a hundred needles pierce me and torment my life,\n\nAnd my feeble footsteps falter, and my senses seem to reel,\nFain would I beside thee linger, for a sleep doth o'er me steal.\"\n\nWith a wild and speechless terror pale Savitri held her lord,\nOn her lap his head she rested as she laid him on the sward,\n\nNarad's fatal words remembered as she watched her husband's head,\nBurning lip and pallid forehead, and the dark and creeping shade,\n\nClasped him in her beating bosom, kissed his lips with panting breath,\nDarker grew the lonesome forest, and he slept the sleep of death!\n\nV\n\nTriumph over Fate\n\nIn the bosom of the shadows rose a Vision dark and dread,\nShape of gloom in inky garment, and a crown was on his head!\n\nGleaming form of sable splendour, blood-red was his sparkling eye,\nAnd a fatal noose he carried, grim and godlike, dark and high!\n\nAnd he stood in solemn silence, looked in silence on the dead,\nAnd Savitri on the greensward gently placed her husband's head,\n\nAnd a tremor shook Savitri, but a woman's love is strong,\nWith her hands upon her bosom thus she spake with quivering tongue:\n\n\"More than mortal is thy glory, and a radiant god thou be,\nTell me what bright name thou bearest, and thy message unto me.\"\n\n\"Know me,\" thus responded YAMA, \"mighty monarch of the dead,\nMortals leaving earthly mansion to my darksome realms are led,\n\nSince with woman's full affection thou hast loved thy husband dear,\nHence before thee, faithful woman, YAMA doth in form appear,\n\nBut his days and loves are ended, and he leaves his faithful wife,\nIn this noose I bind and carry spark of his immortal life,\n\nVirtue graced his life and action, spotless was his princely heart,\nHence for him I came in person, princess, let thy husband part.\"\n\nYAMA from Satyavan's body, pale and bloodless, cold and dumb,\nDrew the vital spark, _purusha_, smaller than the human thumb,\n\nIn his noose the spark he fastened, silent went his darksome way,\nLeft the body shorn of lustre to its rigid cold decay.\n\nSouthward went the dark-hued YAMA with the youth's immortal life,\nAnd, for woman's love abideth, followed still the faithful wife.\n\n\"Turn, Savitri,\" outspake YAMA, \"for thy husband loved and lost,\nDo the rites due unto mortals by their Fate predestined crost,\n\nFor thy wifely duty ceases, follow not in fruitless woe,\nAnd no farther living creature may with monarch YAMA go!\"\n\n\"But I may not choose but follow where thou takest my husband's life,\nFor Eternal Law divides not loving man and faithful wife!\n\nFor my love and my affection, for a woman's sacred woe,\nGrant me in thy godlike mercy farther still with him I go!\n\nFourfold are our human duties: first, to study holy lore;\nThen to live as good householders, feed the hungry at our door;\n\nThen to pass our days in penance; last to fix our thoughts above;\nBut the final goal of virtue, it is Truth and deathless Love!\"\n\n\"True and holy are thy precepts,\" listening YAMA made reply,\n\"And they fill my heart with gladness and with pious purpose high,\n\nI would bless thee, fair Savitri, but the dead come not to life,\nAsk for other boon and blessing, faithful, true and virtuous wife!\"\n\n\"Since you so permit me, YAMA,\" so the good Savitri said,\n\"For my husband's banished father let my dearest suit be made,\n\nSightless in the darksome forest dwells the monarch faint and weak,\nGrant him sight and grant him vigour, YAMA, in thy mercy speak!\"\n\n\"Duteous daughter,\" YAMA answered, \"be thy pious wishes given,\nAnd his eyes shall be restored to the cheerful light of heaven,\n\nTurn, Savitri, faint and weary, follow not in fruitless woe,\nAnd no farther living creature may with monarch YAMA go!\"\n\n\"Faint nor weary is Savitri,\" so the noble princess said,\n\"Since she waits upon her husband, gracious Monarch of the dead,\n\nWhat befalls the wedded husband still befalls the faithful wife,\nWhere he leads she ever follows, be it death or be it life!\n\nAnd our sacred writ ordaineth and our pious _rishis_ sing,\nTransient meeting with the holy doth its countless blessings bring,\n\nLonger friendship with the holy purifies the mortal birth,\nLasting union with the holy is the bright sky on the earth!\n\nUnion with the pure and holy is immortal heavenly life,\nFor Eternal Law divides not loving man and faithful wife!\"\n\n\"Blessed are thy words,\" said YAMA, \"blessed is thy pious thought,\nWith a higher purer wisdom are thy holy lessons fraught,\n\nI would bless thee, fair Savitri, but the dead come not to life,\nAsk for other boon and blessing, faithful, true and virtuous wife!\"\n\n\"Since you so permit me, YAMA,\" so the good Savitri said,\n\"Once more for my husband's father be my supplication made,\n\nLost his kingdom, in the forest dwells the monarch faint and weak,\nGrant him back his wealth and kingdom, YAMA, in thy mercy speak!\"\n\n\"Loving daughter!\" YAMA answered, \"wealth and kingdom I bestow,\nTurn, Savitri, living mortal may not with King YAMA go!\"\n\nStill Savitri, meek and faithful, followed her departed lord,\nYAMA still with higher wisdom listened to her saintly word,\n\nAnd the Sable King was vanquished, and he turned on her again,\nAnd his words fell on Savitri like the cooling summer rain,\n\n\"Noble woman, speak thy wishes, name thy boon and purpose high,\nWhat the pious mortal asketh gods in heaven may not deny!\"\n\n\"Thou hast,\" so Savitri answered, \"granted father's realm and might,\nTo his vain and sightless eyeballs hast restored their blessed sight,\n\nGrant him that the line of monarchs may not all untimely end,\nThat his kingdom to Satyavan's and Savitri's sons descend!\"\n\n\"Have thy object,\" answered YAMA, \"and thy lord shall live again,\nHe shall live to be a father, and your children too shall reign,\n\nFor a woman's troth abideth longer than the fleeting breath,\nAnd a woman's love abideth higher than the doom of Death!\"\n\nVI\n\nReturn Home\n\nVanished then the Sable Monarch, and Savitri held her way\nWhere in dense and darksome forest still her husband lifeless lay,\n\nAnd she sat upon the greensward by the cold unconscious dead,\nOn her lap with deeper kindness placed her consort's lifeless head,\n\nAnd that touch of true affection thrilled him back to waking life,\nAs returned from distant regions gazed the prince upon his wife!\n\n\"Have I lain too long and slumbered, sweet Savitri, faithful spouse?\nBut I dreamt a Sable Person, in a noose took forth my life!\"\n\n\"Pillowed on this lap,\" she answered, \"long upon the earth you lay,\nAnd the Sable Person, husband, he hath come and passed away,\n\nRise and leave this darksome forest if thou feelest light and strong,\nFor the night is on the jungle and our way is dark and long.\"\n\nRising as from happy slumber looked the young prince on all around,\nSaw the wide-extending jungle mantling all the darksome ground,\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, \"I now remember, ever loving faithful dame,\nWe in search of fruit and fuel to this lonesome forest came,\n\nAs I hewed the gnarled branches, cruel anguish filled my brain,\nAnd I laid me on the greensward with a throbbing piercing pain,\n\nPillowed on thy gentle bosom, solaced by thy gentle love,\nI was soothed, and drowsy slumber fell on me from skies above.\n\nAll was dark and then I witnessed, was it but a fleeting dream,\nGod or Vision, dark and dreadful, in the deepening shadows gleam!\n\nWas this dream my fair Savitri, dost thou of this Vision know?\nTell me, for before my eyesight still the Vision seems to glow!\"\n\n\"Darkness thickens,\" said Savitri, \"and the evening waxeth late,\nWhen the morrow's light returneth I shall all these scenes narrate,\n\nNow arise, for darkness gathers, deeper grows the gloomy night,\nAnd thy loving anxious parents trembling wait thy welcome sight,\n\nHark the rangers of the forest! how their voices strike the ear!\nProwlers of the darksome jungle! how they fill my breast with fear!\n\nForest-fire is raging yonder, for I see a distant gleam,\nAnd the rising evening breezes help the red and radiant beam,\n\nLet me fetch a burning faggot and prepare a friendly light,\nWith these fallen withered branches chase the shadows of the night,\n\nAnd if feeble still thy footsteps,--long and weary is our way,--\nBy the fire repose, my husband, and return by light of day.\"\n\n\"For my parents, fondly anxious,\" Satyavan thus made reply,\n\"Pains my heart and yearns my bosom, let us to their cottage hie,\n\nWhen I tarried in the jungle or by day or dewy eve,\nSearching in the hermitages often did my parents grieve,\n\nAnd with father's soft reproaches and with mother's loving fears,\nChid me for my tardy footsteps, dewed me with their gentle tears!\n\nThink then of my father's sorrow, of my mother's woeful plight,\nIf afar in wood and jungle pass we now the livelong night,\n\nWife beloved, I may not fathom what mishap or load of care,\nUnknown dangers, unseen sorrows, even now my parents share!\"\n\nGentle drops of filial sorrow trickled down his manly eye,\nPond Savitri sweetly speaking softly wiped the tear-drops dry:\n\n\"Trust me, husband, if Savitri hath been faithful in her love,\nIf she hath with pious offerings served the righteous gods above,\n\nIf she hath a sister's kindness unto brother men performed,\nIf she hath in speech and action unto holy truth conformed,\n\nUnknown blessings, mighty gladness, trust thy ever faithful wife,\nAnd not sorrows or disasters wait this eve our parents' life!\"\n\nThen she rose and tied her tresses, gently helped her lord to rise,\nWalked with him the pathless jungle, looked with love into his eyes,\n\nOn her neck his clasping left arm sweetly winds in soft embrace,\nRound his waist Savitri's right arm doth sweetly interlace,\n\nThus they walked the darksome jungle, silent stars looked from above,\nAnd the hushed and throbbing midnight watched Savitri's deathless love.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK VI\n\nGO-HARANA\n\n(Cattle-Lifting)\n\n\nThe conditions of the banishment of the sons of Pandu were hard. They\nmust pass twelve years in exile, and then they must remain a year in\nconcealment. If they were discovered within this last year, they must\ngo into exile for another twelve years.\n\nHaving passed the twelve years of exile in forests, the Pandav\nbrothers disguised themselves and entered into the menial service\nof Virata, king of the Matsyas, to pass the year of concealment.\nYudhishthir presented himself as a Brahman, skilled in dice, and\nbecame a courtier of the king. Bhima entered the king's service\nas cook. For Arjun, who was so well known, a stricter concealment\nwas necessary. He wore conch bangles and earrings and braided\nhis hair, like those unfortunate beings whom nature has debarred\nfrom the privileges of men and women, and he lived in the inner\napartments of the king. He assumed the name of _Brihannala_, and\ntaught the inmates of the royal household in music and dancing.\nNakula became a keeper of the king's horses, and Sahadeva took\ncharge of the king's cows. Draupadi too disguised herself as a\nwaiting-woman, and served the princess of the Matsya house in that\nhumble capacity.\n\nIn these disguises the Pandav brothers safely passed a year in\nconcealment in spite of all search which Duryodhan made after them.\nAt last an incident happened which led to their discovery when the\nyear was out.\n\nCattle-lifting was a common practice with the kings of ancient India,\nas with the chiefs of ancient Greece. The king of the Trigartas and\nthe king of the Kurus combined and fell on the king of the Matsyas\nin order to drive off the numerous herd of fine cattle for which his\nkingdom was famed. The Trigartas entered the Matsya kingdom from\nthe south-east, and while Virata went out with his troops to meet\nthe foe, Duryodhan with his Kuru forces fell on the kingdom from\nthe north.\n\nWhen news came that the Kurus had invaded the kingdom, there was\nno army in the capital to defend it. King Virata had gone out with\nmost of his troops to face the Trigartas in the south-east, and the\nprince Uttara had no inclination to face the Kurus in the north. The\ndisguised Arjun now came to the rescue in the manner described in\nthis Book. The description of the bows, arrows, and swords of the\nPandav brothers which they had concealed in a tree, wrapped like\nhuman corpses to frighten away inquisitive travellers, throws some\nlight on the arts and manufacture of ancient times. The portions\ntranslated in this Book form Sections xxxv., xxxvi., xl. to xliii.,\na portion of Section xliv., and Sections liii. and lxxii. of Book iv.\nof the original text.\n\nI\n\nComplaint of the Cowherd\n\nMonarch of the mighty Matsyas, brave Virata known to fame,\nMarched against Trigarta chieftains who from southward regions came,\n\nFrom the north the proud Duryodhan, stealing onwards day by day,\nSwooped on Matsya's fattened cattle like the hawk upon its prey!\n\nBhishma, Drona, peerless Karna, led the Kuru warriors brave,\nSwept the kingdom of Virata like the ocean's surging wave,\n\nFell upon the trembling cowherds, chased them from the pasture-field,\nSixty thousand head of cattle was the Matsya country's yield!\n\nAnd the wailing chief of cowherds fled forlorn, fatigued and spent,\nSpeeding on his rapid chariot to the royal city went,\n\nCame inside the city portals, came within the palace gate,\nStruck his forehead in his anguish and bewailed his luckless fate.\n\nMeeting there the prince Uttara, youth of beauty and of fame,\nTold him of the Kurus' outrage and lamented Matsya's shame:\n\n\"Sixty thousand head of cattle, bred of Matsya's finest breed,\nTo Hastina's distant empire do the Kuru chieftains lead!\n\nGlory of the Matsya nation! save thy father's valued kine,\nQuick thy footsteps, strong thy valour, vengeance deep and dire be thine!\n\n'Gainst the fierce Trigarta chieftains Matsya's warlike king is gone,\nThee we count our lord and saviour as our monarch's gallant son!\n\nRise, Uttara! beat the Kurus, homeward lead the stolen kine,\nLike an elephant of jungle, pierce the Kurus' shattered line!\n\nAs the _Vina_ speaketh music, by musicians tuned aright,\nLet thy sounding bow and arrows speak thy deeds of matchless might!\n\nHarness quick thy milk-white coursers to thy sounding battle-car,\nHoist thy golden lion-banner, speed thee, prince, unto the war!\n\nAnd as thunder-wielding INDRA smote _asuras_ fierce and bold,\nSmite the Kurus with thy arrows winged with plumes of yellow gold!\n\nAs the famed and warlike Arjun is the stay of Kuru's race,\nThou art refuge of the Matsyas and thy kingdom's pride and grace!\"\n\nBut the prince went not to battle from the foe to guard the State,\nTo the cowherd answered gaily, sheltered by the palace gate:\n\n\"Not unknown to me the usage of the bow and winged dart,\nNot unknown the warrior's duty or the warrior's noble art,\n\nI would win my father's cattle from the wily foeman's greed,\nIf a skilful chariot-driver could my fiery coursers lead,\n\nFor my ancient chariot-driver died on battle's gory plain,\nEight and twenty days we wrestled, many warlike chiefs were slain!\n\nBring me forth a skilful driver who can urge the battle-steed,\nI will hoist my lion-banner, to the dubious battle speed!\n\nDashing through the foeman's horses, ranks of elephant and car,\nI will win the stolen cattle rescued in the field of war!\n\nAnd like thunder-wielding INDRA, smiting Danu's sons of old,\nI will smite the Kuru chieftains, drive them to their distant hold!\n\nBhishma and the proud Duryodhan, archer Karna known to fame,\nDrona too shall quail before me and retreat in bitter shame!\n\nDo those warriors in my absence Matsya's far-famed cattle steal?\nBut beneath my countless arrows Matsya's vengeance they shall feel!\n\nBring me forth a chariot-driver, let me speed my battle-car,\nAnd in wonder they will question--Is this Arjun famed in war?\"\n\nII\n\nThe Disguised Charioteer\n\nArjun, guised as Brihannala, heard the boast Uttara made,\nAnd to try his skill and valour, thus to fair Draupadi prayed:\n\n\"Say to him that Brihannala will his battle-chariot lead,\nThat as Arjun's chariot-driver he hath learned to urge the steed,\n\nSay that faithful Brihannala many a dubious war hath seen,\nAnd will win his father's cattle in this contest fierce and keen.\"\n\nFair Draupadi, guised as menial, Arjun's secret hest obeyed,\nHumbly stepped before Uttara and in gentle accents prayed:\n\n\"Hear me, prince! yon Brihannala will thy battle-chariot lead,\nHe was Arjun's chariot-driver, skilled to urge the flying steed,\n\nTrained in war by mighty Arjun, trained to drive the battle-car,\nHe hath followed helmed Arjun in the glorious field of war,\n\nAnd when Arjun conquered Khandav, this, Uttara, I have seen,\nBrihannala drove his chariot, for I served Yudhishthir's queen.\"\n\nHeard Uttara hesitating, spake his faint and timid mind,\n\"I would trust thee, beauteous maiden, lotus-bosomed, ever kind,\n\nBut a poor and sexless creature, can he rein the warlike steed?\nCan I ask him, worse than woman, in the battle's ranks to lead?\"\n\n\"Need is none,\" Draupadi answered, \"Brihannala's grace to ask,\nHe is eager like the war-horse for this great and warlike task!\n\nAnd he waits upon thy sister, she will bid the minion speed,\nAnd he wins thy father's cattle, and the victor's glorious meed!\"\n\nMatsya's princess spake to Arjun, Arjun led the battle-car,\nLed the doubting prince Uttara to the dread and dubious war!\n\nIII\n\nArms and Weapons\n\nArjun drove the prince of Matsya to a darksome _sami_ tree,\nSpake unto the timid warrior in his accents bold and free:\n\n\"Prince, thy bow and shining arrows, pretty handsome toys are these,\nScarcely they beseem a warrior, and a warrior cannot please!\n\nThou shalt find upon this _sami_, mark my words which never fail,\nStately bows and winged arrows, banners, swords and coats of mail!\n\nAnd a bow which strongest warriors scarce can in the battle bend,\nAnd the limits of a kingdom widen when that bow is strained!\n\nTall and slender like a palm-tree, worthy of a warrior bold,\nSmooth the wood of hardened fibre, and the ends are yellow gold!\"\n\nDoubting still Uttara answered: \"In this _sami's_ gloomy shade\nCorpses hang since many seasons, in their wrappings duly laid,\n\nNow I mark them all suspended, horrent, in the open air,\nAnd to touch the unclean objects, friend, is more than I can dare!\"\n\n\"Fear not warrior,\" Arjun answered, \"for the tree conceals no dead,\nWarriors' weapons, cased like corpses, lurk within its gloomy shade,\n\nAnd I ask thee, prince of Matsya, not to touch an unclean thing,\nBut unto a chief and warrior weapons and his arms to bring!\"\n\nPrince Uttara gently lighted, climbed the dark and leafy tree,\nArjun from the prince's chariot bade him speed the arms to free,\n\nThen the young prince cut the wrappings and the shining bows appear\nTwisted, voiced like hissing serpents, like the bright stars glistening\n  clear!\n\nSeized with wonder prince Uttara silently the weapons eyed,\nAnd unto his chariot-driver thus in trembling accents cried:\n\n\"Whose this bow so tall and stately, speak to me my gentle friend,\nOn the wood are golden bosses, tipped with gold at either end?\n\nWhose this second ponderous weapon stout and massive in the hold,\nOn the staff are worked by artists elephants of burnished gold?\n\nSure some great and mighty monarch owns this other bow of might,\nSet with golden glittering insects on its ebon back so bright?\n\nGolden suns of wondrous brightness on this fourth their lustre lend,\nWho may be the unknown archer who this stately bow can bend?\n\nAnd the fifth is set with jewels, gems and stones of purest ray,\nGolden fire-flies glint and sparkle in the yellow light of day!\n\nWho doth own these shining arrows with their heads in gold encased,\nThousand arrows bright and feathered, in the golden quivers placed?\n\nNext are these with vulture-feather, golden-yellow in their hue,\nMade of iron, keen and whetted, whose may be these arrows true?\n\nNext upon this sable quiver jungle tigers worked in gold,\nAnd these keen and boar-eared arrows speak some chieftains fierce and bold!\n\nFourth are these seven hundred arrows, crescent is their shining blade,\nThirsting for the blood of foemen, and by cunning artists made!\n\nAnd the fifth are golden-crested, made of tempered steel and bright,\nParrot feathers wing these arrows, whetted and of wondrous might!\n\nWho doth own this wondrous sabre, shape of toad is on the hilt,\nOn the blade a toad is graven, and the scabbard nobly gilt?\n\nLarger, stouter is this second in its sheath of tiger-skin,\nDecked with bells and gold-surmounted, and the blade is bright and keen!\n\nNext this scimitar so curious by the skilled _nishadas_ made,\nScabbard made of wondrous cowhide sheathes the bright and polished blade!\n\nFourth, a long and beauteous weapon glittering sable in its hue,\nWith its sheath of softer goat-skin worked with gold on azure blue!\n\nAnd the fifth is broad and massive over thirty fingers long,\nGolden-sheathed and gold embossed like a snake or fiery tongue!\"\n\nJoyously responded Arjun: \"Mark this bow embossed with gold,\n'Tis the wondrous bow, _gandiva_, worthy of a warrior bold!\n\nGift of heaven! to archer Arjun kindly gods this weapon sent,\nAnd the confines of a kingdom widen when the bow is bent!\n\nNext, this mighty ponderous weapon worked with elephants of gold,\nWith this bow the stalwart Bhima hath the tide of conquests rolled!\n\nAnd the third with golden insects by a cunning hand inlaid,\n'Tis Yudhishthir's royal weapon by the noblest artists made!\n\nNext the bow with solar lustre brave Nakula wields in fight,\nAnd the fifth is Sahadeva's, decked with gems and jewels bright!\n\nListen, prince! these thousand arrows, unto Arjun they belong,\nAnd the darts whose blades are crescent unto Bhima brave and strong,\n\nBoar-ear shafts are young Nakula's, in the tiger-quiver cased,\nSahadeva owns the arrows with the parrot's feather graced,\n\nThese three-knotted shining arrows, thick and yellow vulture-plumed,\nThey belong to King Yudhishthir, with their heads by gold illumed.\n\nListen more! if of these sabres, prince of Matsya, thou wouldst know,\nArjun's sword is toad-engraven, ever dreaded by the foe!\n\nAnd the sword in tiger-scabbard, massive and of mighty strength,\nNone save tiger-waisted Bhima wields that sword of wondrous length!\n\nNext the sabre golden-hilted, sable and with gold embossed,\nBrave Yudhishthir kept that sabre when the king his kingdom lost!\n\nYonder sword with goat-skin scabbard brave Nakula wields in war,\nIn the cowhide Sahadeva keeps his shining scimitar!\"\n\n\"Strange thy accents,\" spake Uttara, \"stranger are the weapons bright,\nAre they arms of sons of Pandu famed on earth for matchless might?\n\nWhere are now those pious princes by a dire misfortune crossed,\nWarlike Arjun, good Yudhishthir, by his subjects loved and lost?\n\nWhere is tiger-waisted Bhima, matchless fighter in the field,\nAnd the brave and twin-born brothers skilled the arms of war to wield?\n\nO'er a game they lost their empire, and we heard of them no more,\nOr perchance they lonesome wander on some wild and distant shore!\n\nAnd Draupadi noble princess, purest best of womankind,\nDoth she wander with Yudhishthir, changeless in her heart and mind?\"\n\nProudly answered valiant Arjun, and a smile was on his face,\n\"Not in distant lands the brothers do their wandering footsteps trace!\n\nIn thy father's court disguised lives Yudhishthir just and good,\nBhima in thy father's palace as a cook prepares the food!\n\nBrave Nakula guards the horses, Sahadeva tends the kine,\nAs thy sister's waiting-woman doth the fair Draupadi shine!\n\n_Pardon, prince, these rings and bangles, pardon strange unmanly guise,\n'Tis no poor and sexless creature, Arjun greets thy wondering eyes!\"_\n\nIV\n\nRescue of the Cattle\n\nArjun decked his mighty stature in the gleaming arms of war,\nAnd with voice of distant thunder rolled the mighty battle-car!\n\nAnd the Kurus marked with wonder Arjun's standard lifted proud,\nHeard with dread the deep _gandiva_ sounding oft and sounding loud!\n\nAnd they knew the wondrous bowman wheeling round the battle-car,\nAnd with doubts and grave misgivings whispered Drona skilled in war:\n\n\"That is Arjun's monkey-standard, how it greets my ancient eyes!\nWell the Kurus know the standard like a comet in the skies!\n\nHear ye not the deep _gandiva_? How my ear its accents greet!\nMark ye not these pointed arrows falling prone before my feet?\n\nBy these darts his salutation to his teacher loved of old,\nYears of exile now completed, Arjun sends with greetings bold!\n\nHow the gallant prince advances! Now I mark his form and face,\nIssuing from his dark concealment with a brighter, haughtier grace,\n\nWell I know his bow and arrows and I know his standard well,\nAnd the deep and echoing accents of his far-resounding shell!\n\nIn his shining arms accoutred, gleaming in his helmet dread,\nShines he like the flame of _homa_ by libations duly fed!\"\n\nArjun marked the Kuru warriors arming for th' impending war,\nWhispered thus to prince Uttara as he drove the battle-car:\n\n\"Stop thy steeds, O prince of Matsya! for too close we may not go,\nStop thy chariot whence my arrows reach and slay the distant foe,\n\nSeek we out the Kuru monarch, proud Duryodhan let us meet,\nIf he falls we win the battle, other chieftains will retreat.\n\nThere is Drona my preceptor, Drona's warlike son is there,\nKripa and the mighty Bhishma, archer Karna, tall and fair,\n\nThem I seek not in this battle, lead, O lead thy chariot far,\nMidst the chiefs Duryodhan moves not, moves not in the ranks of war!\n\nBut to save the pilfered cattle speeds he onward in his fear,\nWhile these warriors stay and tarry to defend their monarch's rear,\n\nBut I leave these car-borne warriors, other work to-day is mine,\nMeet Duryodhan in the battle, win thy father's stolen kine!\"\n\nMatsya's prince then turned the courses, left behind the war's array,\nWhere Duryodhan with the cattle quickly held his onward way,\n\nKripa marked the course of Arjun, guessed his inmost thought aright,\nThus he spake to brother warriors urging speed and instant fight:\n\n\"Mark ye, chieftains, gallant Arjun wheels his sounding battle-car,\n'Gainst our prince and proud Duryodhan seeks to turn the tide of war!\n\nLet us fall upon our foeman and our prince and leader save,\nFew save INDRA, god of battles, conquers Arjun fierce and brave!\n\nWhat were Matsya's fattened cattle, many thousands though they be,\nIf our monarch sinks in battle like a ship in stormy sea!\"\n\nVain were Kripa's words of wisdom! Arjun drove the chariot fair,\nWhile his shafts like countless locusts whistled through the ambient air!\n\nKuru soldiers struck with panic neither stood and fought, nor fled,\nGazed upon the distant Arjun, gazed upon their comrades dead!\n\nArjun twanged his mighty weapon, blew his far-resounding shell,\nStrangely spake his monkey-standard, Kuru warriors knew it well!\n\n_Sankha's_ voice, _gandiva's_ accents, and the chariot's booming sound,\nFilled the air like distant thunder, shook the firm and solid ground!\n\nKuru soldiers fled in terror, or they slumbered with the dead,\nAnd the rescued lowing cattle, with their tails uplifted, fled!\n\nV\n\nWarrior's Guerdon\n\nNow with joy the king Virata to his royal city came,\nSaw the rescued herds of cattle, saw Uttara prince of fame,\n\nMarked the great and gallant Arjun, helmet-wearing, armour-cased,\nKnew Yudhishthir and his brothers now as royal princes dressed,\n\nAnd he greeted good Yudhishthir, truth-beloving brave and strong,\nAnd to valiant Arjun offered Matsya's princess fair and young!\n\n\"Pardon, monarch,\" answered Arjun, \"but I may not take as bride,\nMatsya's young and beauteous princess whom I love with father's pride,\n\nShe hath often met me trusting in the inner palace hall,\nAs a daughter on a father waited on my loving call!\n\nI have trained her _kokil_ accents, taught her maiden steps in dance,\nWatched her skill and varied graces all her native charms enhance!\n\nPure is she in thought and action, spotless as my hero boy,\nGrant her to my son, O monarch, as his wedded wife and joy!\n\nAbhimanyu trained in battle, handsome youth of godlike face,\nKrishna's sister, fair Subhadra, bore the child of princely grace!\n\nWorthy of thy youthful daughter, pure in heart and undefiled,\nGrant it, sire, my Abhimanyu wed thy young and beauteous child!\"\n\nAnswered Matsya's noble monarch with a glad and grateful heart:\n\"Words like these befit thy virtue, nobly hast thou done thy part!\n\nBe it as thou sayest, Arjun; unto Pandu's race allied,\nMatsya's royal line is honoured, Matsya's king is gratified!\"\n\nVI\n\nThe Wedding\n\nGood Yudhishthir heard the tidings, and he gave his free assent,\nUnto distant chiefs and monarchs kindly invitations sent,\n\nIn the town of Upa-plavya, of fair Matsya's towns the best,\nMade their home the pious brothers to receive each royal guest.\n\nCame unto them Kasi's monarch and his armed troopers came,\nAnd the king of fair Panchala with his sons of warlike fame,\n\nCame the sons of fair Draupadi early trained in art of war,\nOther chiefs and sacrifices came from regions near and far.\n\nKrishna decked in floral garlands with his elder brother came,\nAnd his sister fair Subhadra, Arjun's loved and longing dame,\n\nArjun's son brave Abhimanyu came upon his flowery car,\nAnd with elephants and chargers, troopers trained in art of war.\n\nVrishnis from the sea-girt Dwarka, bravo Andhakas known to fame,\nBhojas from the mighty Chumbal with the righteous Krishna came,\n\nHe to gallant sons of Pandu made his presents rich and rare,\nGems and gold and costly garments, slaves and damsels passing fair.\n\nWith its quaint and festive greetings came at last the bridal day,\nMatsya maids were merry-hearted and the Pandav brothers gay!\n\nConch and cymbal, horn and trumpet spake forth music soft and sweet,\nIn Virata's royal palace, in the peopled mart and street!\n\nAnd they slay the jungle red-deer, and they spread the ample board,\nAnd prepare the cooling palm-drink, with the richest viands stored!\n\nMimes and actors please the people, bards recite the ancient song,\nGlories of heroic houses minstrels by their lays prolong!\n\nAnd deep-bosomed dames of Matsya, jasmine-form and lotus-face,\nWith their pearls and golden garlands joyously the bridal grace!\n\nCircled by those royal ladies, though they all are bright and fair,\nBrightest shines the fair Draupadi with a beauty rich and rare!\n\nStately dames and merry maidens lead the young and soft-eyed bride,\nAs the queens of gods encircle INDRA'S daughter in her pride!\n\nArjun from the Matsya monarch takes the princess passing fair,\nFor his son by fair Subhadra, nursed by Krishna's loving care,\n\nWith a godlike grace Yudhishthir stands by faithful Arjun's side,\nAs a father takes a daughter, takes the young and beauteous bride,\n\nJoins her hands to Abhimanyu's, and with cake and parched rice,\nOn the altar brightly blazing doth the holy sacrifice.\n\nMatsya's monarch on the bridegroom rich and costly presents pressed,\nElephants he gave two hundred, steeds seven thousand of the best,\n\nPoured libations on the altar, on the priests bestowed his gold,\nOffered to the sons of Pandu rich domain and wealth untold!\n\nWith a pious hand Yudhishthir, true in heart and pure in mind,\nMade his gifts, in gold and garments, kine and wealth of every kind,\n\nCostly chariots, beds of splendour, robes with thread of gold belaced,\nViands rich and sweet confection, drinks the richest and the best,\n\nLands he gave unto the Brahman, bullocks to the labouring swain,\nSteeds he gave unto the warrior, to the people gifts and grain,\n\nAnd the city of the Matsyas, teeming with a wealth untold,\nShone with festive joy and gladness and with flags and cloth of gold!\n\n\n\n\nBOOK VII\n\nUDYOGA\n\n(The Preparation)\n\n\nThe term of banishment having expired, Yudhishthir demanded that\nthe kingdom of Indra-prastha should be restored to him. The old\nDhrita-rashtra and his queen and the aged and virtuous councillors\nadvised the restoration, but, the jealous Duryodhan hated his cousins\nwith a genuine hatred, and would not cement. All negotiations were\ntherefore futile, and preparations were made on both sides for the\nmost sanguinary and disastrous battle that bad ever been witnessed in\nNorthern India.\n\nThe portions translated in this Book are from Sections i., ii. iii.,\nxciv., cxxiv., and cxxvi. of Book v. of the original text.\n\nI\n\nKrishna's Speech\n\nMirth and song and nuptial music waked the echoes of the night,\nYouthful bosoms throbbed with pleasure, love-lit glances sparkled bright,\n\nBut when young and white-robed USHAS ope'd the golden gates of day,\nTo Virata's council chamber chieftains thoughtful held their way.\n\nStones inlaid in arch and pillar glinted in the glittering dawn,\nGay festoons and graceful garlands o'er the golden cushions shone!\n\nMatsya's king, Panchala's monarch, foremost seats of honour claim,\nKrishna too and Valadeva, Dwarka's chiefs of righteous fame!\n\nBy them sate the bold Satyaki from the sea-girt western shore,\nAnd the godlike sons of Pandu,--days of dark concealment o'er,\n\nYouthful princes in their splendour graced Virata's royal hall,\nValiant sons of valiant fathers, brave in war, august and tall!\n\nIn their gem-bespangled garments came the warriors proud and high,\nTill the council chamber glittered like the star-bespangled sky!\n\nKind the greetings, sweet the converse, soft the golden moments fly,\nTill intent on graver questions all on Krishna turn their eye,\n\nKrishna with his inner vision then the state of things surveyed,\nAnd his thoughts before the monarchs thus in weighty accents laid:\n\n\"Known to all, ye mighty monarchs! May your glory ever last!\nTrue to plighted word Yudhishthir hath his weary exile passed,\n\nTwelve long years with fair Draupadi in the pathless jungle strayed,\nAnd a year in menial service in Virata's palace stayed,\n\nHe hath kept his plighted promise, braved affliction, woe and shame,\nAnd he begs, assembled monarchs, ye shall now his duty name!\n\nFor he swerveth not from duty kingdom of the sky to win,\nPrizeth hamlet more than empire, so his course be free from sin,\n\nLoss of realm and wealth and glory higher virtues in him prove,\nThoughts of peace and not of anger still the good Yudhishthir move!\n\nMark again the sleepless anger and the unrelenting hate\nHarboured by the proud Duryodhan driven by his luckless fate,\n\nFrom a child, by fire or poison, impious guile or trick of dice,\nHe hath compassed dark destruction, by deceit and low device!\n\nPonder well, ye gracious monarchs, with a just and righteous mind,\nHelp Yudhishthir with your counsel, with your grace and blessings kind,\n\nShould the noble son of Pandu seek his right by open war,\nSeek the aid of righteous monarchs and of chieftains near and far?\n\nShould he smite his ancient foemen skilled in each deceitful art,\nUnforgiving in their vengeance, unrelenting in their heart?\n\nShould he rather send a message to the proud unbending foe,\nAnd Duryodhan's haughty purpose seek by messenger to know?\n\nShould he send a noble envoy, trained in virtue, true and wise,\nWith his greetings to Duryodhan in a meek and friendly guise?\n\nAsk him to restore the kingdom on the sacred Jumna's shore?\nEither king may rule his empire as in happy days of yore!\"\n\nKrishna uttered words of wisdom pregnant with his peaceful thought,\nFor in peace and not by bloodshed still Yudhishthir's right he sought.\n\nII\n\nValadeva's Speech\n\nKrishna's elder Valadeva, stalwart chief who bore the plough,\nRose and spake, the blood of Vrishnis mantled o'er his lofty brow:\n\n\"Ye have listened, pious monarchs, to my brother's gentle word,\nLove he bears to good Yudhishthir and to proud Hastina's lord,\n\nFor his realm by dark blue Jumna good Yudhishthir held of yore,\nBrave Duryodhan ruled his kingdom on the ruddy Ganga's shore,\n\nAnd once more in love and friendship either prince may rule his share,\nFor the lands are broad and fertile, and each realm is rich and fair!\n\nSpeed the envoy to Hastina with our love and greetings kind,\nLet him speak Yudhishthir's wishes, seek to know Duryodhan's mind,\n\nMake obeisance unto Bhishma and to Drona true and bold,\nUnto Kripa, archer Karna, and to chieftains young and old,\n\nTo the sons of Dhrita-rashtra, rulers of the Kuru land,\nRighteous in their kingly duties, stout of heart and strong of hand,\n\nTo the princes and to burghers gathered in the council hall,\nLet him speak Yudhishthir's wishes, plead Yudhishthir's cause to all.\n\nSpeak he not in futile anger, for Duryodhan holds the power,\nAnd Yudhishthir's wrath were folly in this sad and luckless hour!\n\nBy his dearest friends dissuaded, but by rage or madness driven,\nHe hath played and lost his empire, may his folly be forgiven!\n\nIndra-prastha's spacious empire now Duryodhan deems his own,\nBy his tears and soft entreaty let Yudhishthir seek the throne,\n\nOpen war I do not counsel, humbly seek Duryodhan's grace,\nWar will not restore the empire nor the gambler's loss replace!\"\n\nThus with cold and cruel candour stalwart Valadeva cried,\nWrathful rose the brave Satyaki, fiercely thus to him replied:\n\nIII\n\nSatyaki's Speech\n\n\"Shame unto the halting chieftain who thus pleads Duryodhan's part,\nTimid counsel, Valadeva, speaks a woman's timid heart!\n\nOft from warlike stock ariseth weakling chief who bends the knee,\nAs a withered fruitless sapling springeth from a fruitful tree!\n\nFrom a heart so faint and craven, faint and craven words must flow,\nMonarchs in their pride and glory list not to such counsel low!\n\nCould'st thou, impious Valadeva, midst these potentates of fame,\nOn Yudhishthir pious-hearted cast this undeserved blame?\n\nChallenged by his wily foeman and by dark misfortune crost,\nTrusting to their faith Yudhishthir played a righteous game and lost!\n\nChallenge from a crowned monarch can a crowned king decline,\nCan a Kshatra warrior fathom fraud in sons of royal line?\n\nNathless he surrendered empire true to faith and plighted word,\nLived for years in pathless forests Indra-prastha's mighty lord!\n\nPast his years of weary exile, now he claims his realm of old,\nClaims it, not as humble suppliant, but as king and warrior bold!\n\nPast his year of dark concealment, bold Yudhishthir claims his own,\nProud Duryodhan now must render Indra-prastha's jewelled throne!\n\nBhishma counsels, Drona urges, Kripa pleads for right in vain,\nFalse Duryodhan will not render sinful conquest, fraudful gain!\n\nOpen war I therefore counsel, ruthless and relentless war,\nGrace we seek not when we meet them speeding in our battle-car!\n\nAnd our weapons, not entreaties, shall our foemen force to yield,\nYield Yudhishthir's rightful kingdom or they perish on the field!\n\nFalse Duryodhan and his forces fall beneath our battle's shock,\nAs beneath the bolt of thunder falls the crushed and riven rock!\n\nWho shall meet the helmed Arjun in the gory field of war,\nKrishna with his fiery discus mounted on his battle-car?\n\nWho shall face the twin-born brothers by the mighty Bhima led,\nAnd the vengeful chief Satyaki with his bow and arrows dread?\n\nAncient Drupad wields his weapon peerless in the field of fight,\nAnd his brave son, born of AGNI, owns an all-consuming might!\n\nAbhimanyu, son of Arjun, whom the fair Subhadra bore,\nAnd whose happy nuptials brought us from far Dwarka's sea-girt shore,\n\nMen on earth nor bright immortals can the youthful hero face,\nWhen with more than Arjun's prowess Abhimanyu leads the race!\n\nDhrita-rashtra's sons we conquer and Gandhara's wily son,\nVanquish Karna though world-honoured for his deeds of valour done,\n\nWin the fierce-contested battle and redeem Yudhishthir's own,\nPlace the exile pious-hearted on his father's ancient throne!\n\nAnd no sin Satyaki reckons slaughter of the mortal foe,\nBut to beg a grace of foemen were a mortal sin and woe!\n\nSpeed we then unto our duty, let our impious foemen yield,\nOr the fiery son of Sini meets them on the battle-field!\"\n\nIV\n\nDrupad's Speech\n\nFair Panchala's ancient monarch rose his secret thoughts to tell,\nFrom his lips the words of wisdom with a graceful accent fell:\n\n\"Much I fear thou speakest truly, hard is Kuru's stubborn race,\nVain the hope, the effort futile, to beseech Duryodhan's grace!\n\nDhrita-rashtra pleadeth vainly, feeble is his fitful star,\nAncient Bhishma, righteous Drona, cannot stop this fatal war,\n\nArcher Karna thirsts for battle, moved by jealousy and pride,\nDeep Sakuni, false and wily, still supports Duryodhan's side!\n\nVain is Valadeva's counsel, vainly shall our envoy plead,\nHalf his empire proud Duryodhan yields not in his boundless greed,\n\nIn his pride he deems our mildness faint and feeble-hearted fear,\nAnd our suit will fan his glory and his arrogance will cheer!\n\nTherefore let our many heralds travel near and travel far,\nSeek alliance of all monarchs in the great impending war,\n\nUnto brave and noble chieftains, unto nations east and west,\nNorth and south to warlike races speed our message and request!\n\nMeanwhile peace and offered friendship we before Duryodhan place,\nAnd my priest will seek Hastina, strive to win Duryodhan's grace,\n\nIf he renders Indra-prastha, peace will crown the happy land,\nOr our troops will shake the empire from the east to western strand!\"\n\nVainly were Panchala's Brahmans sent with messages of peace,\nVainly urged Hastina's elders that the fatal feud should cease,\n\nProud Duryodhan to his kinsmen would not yield their proper share,\nPandu's sons would not surrender, for they had the will to dare!\n\nFatal war and dire destruction did the mighty gods ordain,\nTill the kings and armed nations strewed the red and reeking plain!\n\nKrishna in his righteous effort sought for wisdom from above,\nStrove to stop the war of nations and to end the feud in love!\n\nAnd to far Hastina's palace Krishna went to sue for peace,\nRaised his voice against the slaughter, begged that strife and feud\n  should cease!\n\nV\n\nKrishna's Speech at Hastina\n\nSilent sat the listening chieftains in Hastina's council hall,\nWith the voice of rolling thunder Krishna spake unto them all:\n\n\"Listen, mighty Dhrita-rashtra, Kuru's great and ancient king,\nSeek not war and death of kinsmen, word of peace and love I bring!\n\n'Midst the wide earth's many nations Bharats in their worth excel,\nLove and kindness, spotless virtue, in the Kuru-elders dwell,\n\nFather of the noble nation, now retired from life's turmoil,\nIll beseems that sin or untruth should thy ancient bosom soil!\n\nFor thy sons in impious anger seek to do their kinsmen wrong,\nAnd withhold the throne and kingdom which by right to them belong,\n\nAnd a danger thus ariseth like the comet's baleful fire,\nSlaughtered kinsmen, bleeding nations, soon shall feed its fatal ire!\n\nStretch thy hands, O Kuru monarch! prove thy truth and holy grace,\nMan of peace! avert the slaughter and preserve thy ancient race.\n\nYet restrain thy fiery children, for thy mandates they obey,\nI with sweet and soft persuasion Pandu's truthful sons will sway.\n\n'Tis thy profit, Kuru monarch! that the fatal feud should cease,\nBrave Duryodhan, good Yudhishthir, rule in unmolested peace,\n\nPandu's sons are strong in valour, mighty in their armed hand,\nINDRA shall not shake thy empire when they guard the Kuru land!\n\nBhishma is thy kingdom's bulwark, doughty Drona rules the war,\nKarna matchless with his arrows, Kripa peerless in his car,\n\nLet Yudhishthir and stout Bhima by these noble warriors stand,\nAnd let helmet-wearing Arjun guard the sacred Kuru land,\n\nWho shall then contest thy prowess from the sea to farthest sea,\nRuler of a world-wide empire, king of kings and nations free?\n\nSons and grandsons, friends and kinsmen, will surround thee in a ring,\nAnd a race of loving heroes guard their ancient hero-king!\n\nDhrita-rashtra's lofty edicts will proclaim his boundless sway,\nNations work his righteous mandates and the kings his will obey!\n\nIf this concord be rejected and the lust of war prevail,\nSoon within these ancient chambers will resound the sound of wail!\n\nGrant thy children be victorious and the sons of Pandu slain,\nDear to thee are Pandu's children, and their death must cause thee pain!\n\nBut the Pandavs skilled in warfare are renowned both near and far,\nAnd thy race and children's slaughter will methinks pollute this war,\n\nSons and grandsons, loving princes, thou shalt never see again,\nKinsmen brave and car-borne chieftains will bedeck the gory plain!\n\nPonder yet, O ancient monarch! Rulers of each distant State,\nNations from the farthest regions gather thick to court their fate,\n\nFather of a righteous nation! Save the princes of the land,\nOn the armed and fated nations stretch, old man, thy saving hand!\n\nSay the word, and at thy bidding leaders of each hostile race\nNot the gory field of battle, but the festive board will grace,\n\nRobed in jewels, decked in garlands, they will quaff the ruddy wine,\nGreet their foes in mutual kindness, bless thy holy name and thine!\n\nThink, O man of many seasons! When good Pandu left this throne,\nAnd his helpless loving orphans thou didst cherish as thine own,\n\n'Twas thy helping steadying fingers taught their infant steps to frame,\n'Twas thy loving gentle accents taught their lips to lisp each name,\n\nAs thine own they grew and blossomed, dear to thee they yet remain,\nTake them back unto thy bosom, be a father once again!\n\nUnto thee, O Dhrita-rashtra! Pandu's sons in homage bend,\nAnd a loving peaceful message through my willing lips they send:\n\nTell our monarch, more than father, by his sacred stern command\nWe have lived in pathless jungle, wandered far from land to land,\n\nTrue unto our plighted promise, for we ever felt and knew,\nTo his promise Dhrita-rashtra cannot, will not be untrue!\n\nYears of anxious toil are over and of woe and bitterness,\nYears of waiting and of watching, years of danger and distress.\n\nLike a dark unending midnight hung on us this age forlorn,\nStreaks of hope and dawning brightness usher now the radiant morn!\n\nBe unto us as a father, loving not inspired by wrath,\nBe unto us as preceptor, pointing us the righteous path,\n\nIf perchance astray we wander, thy strong arm shall lead aright,\nIf our feeble bosom fainteth, help us with a father's might!\n\nThis, O king! the soft entreaty Pandu's sons to thee have made,\nThese are words the sons of Pandu unto Kuru's king have said,\n\nTake their love, O gracious monarch! Let thy closing days be fair,\nLet Duryodhan keep his kingdom, let the Pandavs have their share.\n\nCall to mind their noble suffering, for the tale is dark and long\nOf the outrage they have suffered, of the insult and the wrong!\n\nExiled into Varnavata, destined unto death by flame,\nFor the gods assist the righteous, they with added prowess came!\n\nExiled into Indra-prastha, by their toil and by their might\nCleared a forest, built a city, did the _rajasuya_ rite!\n\nCheated of their realm and empire and of all they called their own,\nIn the jungle they have wandered and in Matsya lived unknown,\n\nOnce more quelling every evil they are stout of heart and hand,\nNow redeem thy plighted promise and restore their throne and land!\n\n_Trust me, mighty Dhrita-rashtra! trust me, lords who grace this hall,\nKrishna pleads for peace and virtue, blessings unto you and all!_\n\n_Slaughter not the armed nations, slaughter not thy kith and kin,\nMark not, king, thy closing winters with the bloody stain of sin!_\n\n_Let thy sons and Pandu's children stand beside thy ancient throne,\nCherish peace and cherish virtue, for thy days are almost done!\"_\n\nVI\n\nBhishma's Speech\n\nFrom the monarch's ancient bosom sighs and sobs convulsive broke,\nBhishma wiped his manly eyelids and to proud Duryodhan spoke:\n\n\"Listen, prince! for righteous Krishna counsels love and holy peace,\nListen, youth! and may thy fortune with thy passing years increase!\n\nYield to Krishna's words of wisdom, for thy weal he nobly strives,\nYield and save thy friends and kinsmen, save thy cherished subjects' lives!\n\nForemost race in all this wide earth is Hastina's royal line,\nBring not on them dire destruction by a sinful act of thine!\n\nSons and fathers, friends and brothers, shall in mutual conflict die,\nKinsmen slain by dearest kinsmen shall upon the red field lie!\n\nHearken unto Krishna's counsel, unto wise Vidura's word,\nBe thy mother's fond entreaty and thy father's mandate heard!\n\nTempt not _devas'_ fiery vengeance on thy old heroic race,\nTread not in the path of darkness, seek the path of light and grace!\n\nListen to thy king and father, he hath Kuru's empire graced,\nListen to thy queen and mother, she hath nursed thee on her breast!\"\n\nVII\n\nDrona's Speech\n\nOut spake Drona priest and warrior, and his words were few and high,\nClouded was Duryodhan's forehead, wrathful was Duryodhan's eye:\n\n\"Thou hast heard the holy counsel which the righteous Krishna said,\nAncient Bhishma's voice of warning thou hast in thy bosom weighed,\n\nPeerless in their godlike wisdom are these chiefs in peace or strife,\nTruest friends to thee, Duryodhan, pure and sinless in their life,\n\nTake their counsel, and thy kinsmen fasten in the bonds of peace,\nMay the empire of the Kurus and their warlike fame increase!\n\nList unto thy old preceptor! Faithless is thy fitful star,\nFalse they feed with hopes thy bosom, those who urge and counsel war!\n\nCrowned kings and armed nations, they will strive for thee in vain,\nVainly brothers, sons, and kinsmen will for thee their life-blood drain,\n\nFor the victor's crown and glory never, never can be thine,\nKrishna conquers, and brave Arjun! mark these deathless words of mine!\n\nI have trained the youthful Arjun, seen him bend the warlike bow,\nMarked him charge the hostile forces, marked him smite the scattered foe!\n\nFiery son of Jamadagni owned no greater, loftier might,\nBreathes on earth no mortal warrior conquers Arjun in the fight!\n\nKrishna too, in war resistless, comes from Dwarka's distant shore,\nAnd the bright-gods quake before him whom the fair Devaki bore!\n\nThese are foes thou may'st not conquer, take an ancient warrior's word,\nAct thou as thy heart decideth, thou art Kuru's king and lord!\"\n\nVIII\n\nVidura's Speech\n\nThen in gentler voice Vidura sought his pensive mind to tell,\nFrom his lips serene and softly words of woe and anguish fell:\n\n\"Not for thee I grieve, Duryodhan, slain by vengeance fierce and keen,\nFor thy father weeps my bosom and the aged Kuru queen!\n\nSons and grandsons, friends and kinsmen slaughtered in this fatal war,\nHomeless, cheerless, on this wide earth they shall wander long and far!\n\nFriendless, kinless, on this wide earth whither shall they turn and fly?\nLike some bird bereft of plumage, they shall pine awhile and die!\n\nOf their race and sad survivors, they shall wander o'er the earth,\nCurse the fatal day, Duryodhan, saw thy sad and woeful birth!\"\n\nIX\n\nDhrita-rashtra's Speech\n\nTear-drops filled his sightless eyeballs, anguish shook his aged frame,\nAs the monarch soothed Duryodhan by each fond endearing name:\n\n\"Listen, dearest son, Duryodhan, shun this dark and fatal strife,\nCast not grief and death's black shadows on thy parents' closing life!\n\nKrishna's heart is pure and spotless, true and wise the words he said,\nWe may win a world-wide empire with the noble Krishna's aid!\n\nSeek the friendship of Yudhishthir, loved of righteous gods above,\nAnd unite the scattered Kurus by the lasting tie of love!\n\nNow at full is tide of fortune, never may it come again,\nStrive and win! or ever after all repentance may be vain!\n\nPeace is righteous Krishna's counsel, and he offers loving peace,\nTake the offered boon, Duryodhan! Let all strife and hatred cease!\"\n\nX\n\nDuryodhan's Speech\n\nSilent sat the proud Duryodhan, wrathful in the council hall,\nSpake to mighty-armed Krishna and to Kuru warriors all:\n\n\"Ill becomes thee, Dwarka's chieftain, in the paths of sin to move,\nBear for me a secret hatred, for the Pandavs secret love!\n\nAnd my father, wise Vidura, ancient Bhishma, Drona bold,\nJoin thee in this bitter hatred, turn on me their glances cold!\n\nWhat great crime or darkening sorrow shadows o'er my bitter fate,\nThat ye chiefs and Kuru's monarch mark Duryodhan for your hate?\n\nSpeak, what nameless guilt or folly, secret sin to me unknown,\nTurns from me your sweet affection, father's love that was my own?\n\nIf Yudhishthir, fond of gambling, played a heedless, reckless game,\nLost his empire and his freedom, was it then Duryodhan's blame?\n\nAnd if freed from shame and bondage in his folly played again,\nLost again and went to exile, wherefore doth he now complain?\n\nWeak are they in friends and forces, feeble is their fitful star,\nWherefore then in pride and folly seek with us unequal war?\n\nShall we, who to mighty INDRA scarce will do the homage due,\nBow to homeless sons of Pandu and their comrades faint and few?\n\nBow to them while warlike Drona leads us as in days of old,\nBhishma greater than the bright-gods, archer Karna true and bold?\n\nIf in dubious game of battle we should forfeit fame and life,\nHeaven will ope its golden portals for the Kshatra slain in strife!\n\nIf unbending to our foemen we should press the gory plain,\nStingless is the bed of arrows, death for us will have no pain!\n\nFor the Kshatra knows no terror of his foeman in the field,\nBreaks like hardened forest timber, bonds not, knows not how to yield!\n\nSo the ancient sage Matanga of the warlike Kshatra said,\nSave to priest and sage preceptor unto none he bends his head!\n\nIndra-prastha which my father weakly to Yudhishthir gave,\nNevermore shall go unto him while I live and brothers brave!\n\nKuru's undivided kingdom Dhrita-rashtra rules alone,\nLet us sheathe our swords in friendship and the monarch's empire own!\n\nIf in past in thoughtless folly once the realm was broke in twain,\nKuru-land is re-united, never shall be split again!\n\n_Take my message to my kinsmen, for Duryodhan's words are plain,\nPortion of the Kuru empire sons of Pandu seek in vain!_\n\n_Town nor village, mart nor hamlet, help us righteous gods in heaven,\nSpot that needle's point can cover not unto them be given!\"_\n\n\n\n\nBOOK VIII\n\nBHISHMA-BADHA\n\n(Fall of Bhishma)\n\n\nAll negotiations for a peaceful partition of the Kuru kingdom having\nfailed, both parties now prepared for a battle, perhaps the most\nsanguinary that was fought on the plains of India in the ancient\ntimes. It was a battle of nations, for all warlike races in Northern\nIndia took a share in it.\n\nDuryodhan's army consisted of his own division, as well as the\ndivisions of ten allied kings. Each allied power is said to have\nbrought one _akshauhini_ troops, and if we reduce this fabulous\nnumber to the moderate figure of ten thousand, including horse and\nfoot, cars and elephants, Duryodhan's army including his own division\nwas over a hundred thousand strong.\n\nYudhishthir had a smaller army, said to have been seven _akshauhinis_\nin number, which we may by a similar reduction reckon to be seventy\nthousand. His father-in-law the king of the Panchalas, and Arjun's\nrelative the king of the Matsyas, were his principal allies. Krishna\njoined him as his friend and adviser, and as the charioteer of Arjun,\nbut the Vrishnis as a nation had joined Duryodhan.\n\nWhen the two armies were drawn up in array and faced each other, and\nArjun saw his revered elders and dear friends and relations among his\nfoes, he was unwilling to fight. It was on this occasion that Krishna\nexplained to him the great principles of Duty in that memorable work\ncalled the _Bhagavat-gita_ which has been translated into so many\nEuropean languages. Belief in one Supreme Deity is the underlying\nthought of this work, and ever and anon, as Professor Garbe remarks,\n\"does Krishna revert to the doctrine that for every man, no matter to\nwhat caste he may belong, the zealous performance of his duty and the\ndischarge of his obligations is his most important work.\"\n\nDuryodhan chose the grand old fighter Bhishma as the\ncommander-in-chief of his army, and for ten days Bhishma held his\nown and inflicted serious loss on Yudhishthir's army. The principal\nincidents of these ten days, ending with the fall of Bhishma, are\nnarrated in this Book.\n\nThis Book is an abridgment of Book vi. of the original text.\n\nI\n\nPandavs routed by Bhishma\n\nUshas with her crimson fingers oped the portals of the day,\nNations armed for mortal combat in the field of battle lay!\n\nBeat of drum and blare of trumpet and the _sankha's_ lofty sound,\nBy the answering cloud repeated, shook the hills and tented ground,\n\nAnd the voice of sounding weapons which the warlike archers drew,\nAnd the neigh of battle chargers as the armed horsemen flew,\n\nMingled with the rolling thunder of each swiftly-speeding car,\nAnd with pealing bells proclaiming mighty elephants of war!\n\nBhishma led the Kuru forces, strong as Death's resistless flail,\nHuman chiefs nor bright Immortals could against his might prevail,\n\nHelmet-wearing, gallant Arjun came in pride and mighty wrath,\nHeld aloft his famed _gandiva_, strove to cross the chieftain's path!\n\nAbhimanyu, son of Arjun, whom the fair Subhadra bore,\nDrove against Kosala's monarch famed in arms and holy lore,\n\nHurling down Kosala's standard he the dubious combat won,\nBarely escaped with life the monarch from the fiery Arjun's son!\n\nWith his fated foe Duryodhan, Bhima strove in deathful war,\nAnd against the proud Duhsasan brave Nakula drove his car,\n\nSahadeva, mighty bowman, then the fierce Durmukha sought,\nAnd the righteous king Yudhishthir with the car-borne Salya fought,\n\nAncient feud and deathless hatred fired the Brahman warrior bold,\nDrona with the proud Panchalas fought once more his feud of old!\n\nNations from the Eastern regions 'gainst the bold Virata pressed,\nKripa met the wild Kaikeyas hailing from the furthest West,\n\nDrupad, proud and peerless monarch, with his cohorts onward bore\n'Gainst the warlike Jayadratha, chief of Sindhu's sounding shore,\n\nChedis and the valiant Matsyas, nations gathered from afar,\nBhojas and the fierce Kambojas mingled in the dubious war!\n\nThrough the day the battle lasted, and no mortal tongue can tell\nWhat unnumbered chieftains perished and what countless soldiers fell,\n\nAnd the son knew not his father, and the sire knew not his son,\nBrother fought against his brother, strange the deeds of valour done!\n\nHorses fell, and shafts of chariots shivered in resistless shock,\nHurled against the foreman's chariots, speeding like the rolling rock,\n\nElephants by _mahuts_ driven furiously each other tore,\nTrumpeting with trunks uplifted on the serried soldiers bore!\n\nCeaseless plied the gallant troopers, with a stern unyielding might,\nPikes and axes, clubs and maces, swords and spears and lances bright,\n\nHorsemen flew as forked lightning, heroes fought in shining mail,\nArchers poured their feathered arrows like the bright and glistening hail!\n\nBhishma, leader of the Kurus, as declined the dreadful day,\nThrough the shattered Pandav legions forced his all-resistless way,\n\nOnward went his palm-tree standard through the hostile ranks of war,\nMatsyas, Kasis, nor Panchalas faced the mighty Bhishma's car!\n\nBut the fiery son of Arjun, filled with shame and bitter wrath,\nTurned his car and tawny coursers to obstruct the chieftain's path,\n\nVainly fought the youthful warrior, though his darts were pointed well,\nAnd dissevered from his chariot Bhishma's palm-tree standard fell,\n\nAnger stirred the ancient Bhishma, and he rose in all his might,\nAbhimanyu, pierced with arrows, fell and fainted in the fight!\n\nThen to save the son of Arjun, Matsya's gallant princes came,\nBrave Uttara, noble Sweta, youthful warriors known to fame,\n\nAh! too early fell the warriors in that sad and fatal strife,\nMatsya's dames and dark-eyed maidens wept the princes' shortened life!\n\nSlain by cruel fate, untimely, fell two brothers young and good,\nDauntless still the youngest brother, proud and gallant Sankha stood!\n\nBut the helmet-wearing Arjun came to stop the victor's path,\nAnd to save the fearless Sankha from the ancient Bhishma's wrath,\n\nDrupad too, Panchala's monarch, swiftly rushed into the fray,\nStrove to shield the broken Pandavs and to stop the victor's way,\n\nBut as fire consumes the forest, wrathful Bhishma slew the foe,\nNone could face his sounding chariot and his ever-circled bow!\n\nAnd the fainting Pandav warriors marked the foe, resistless, bold,\nShook like unprotected cattle tethered in the blighting cold!\n\nOnward came the mighty Bhishma and the slaughter fiercer grew,\nFrom his bow like hissing serpents still the glistening arrows flew!\n\nOnward came the ancient warrior, and his path was strewn with dead,\nAnd the broken Pandav forces, crushed and driven, scattered fled!\n\nFriendly night and gathering darkness closed the slaughter of the day,\nTo their tents the sons of Pandu held their sad and weary way!\n\nII\n\nKurus routed by Arjun\n\nGrieved at heart the good Yudhishthir wept the losses of the day,\nSought the aid of gallant Krishna for the morning's fresh array,\n\nAnd when from the eastern mountains SURYA drove his fiery car,\nBhishma and the helmed Arjun strove to turn the tide of war!\n\nBhishma's glorious palm-tree standard o'er the field of battle rose,\nArjun's monkey-standard glittered cleaving through the serried foes,\n\n_Devas_ from their cloud-borne chariots, and _gandharvas_ from the sky,\nGazed in mute and speechless wonder on the human chiefs from high!\n\nWhile with dauntless valour Arjun still the mighty Bhishma sought,\nWarlike prince of fair Panchala with the doughty Drona fought,\n\nCeaseless 'gainst the proud preceptor sent his darts like summer rain,\nBaffled by the skill of Drona, Dhrista-dyumna strove in vain!\n\nBut the fiercer darts of Drona pierced the prince's shattered mail,\nHurtling on his battle chariot like an angry shower of hail,\n\nAnd they rent in twain his bowstring, and they cut his pond'rous mace,\nSlew his steeds and chariot-driver, streaked with blood his godlike face!\n\nDauntless still, Panchala's hero, springing from his shattered car,\nLike a hungry desert lion with his sabre rushed to war,\n\nDashed aside the darts of Drona with his broad and ample shield,\nWith his sabre brightly flaming fearless trod the reddened field!\n\nIn his fury and his rashness he had fallen on that day,\nBut the ever-watchful Bhima stopped the proud preceptor's way!\n\nProud Duryodhan marked with anger Bhima rushing in his car,\nAnd he sent Kalinga's forces to the thickening ranks of war,\n\nOnward came Kalinga warriors with the dark tornado's might,\nDusky chiefs, Nishada warriors, gloomy as the sable night!\n\nRose the shout of warring nations surging to the battle's fore,\nLike the angry voice of tempest and the ocean's troubled roar!\n\nAnd like darkly rolling breakers ranks of serried warriors flew,\nScarcely in the thickening darkness friends and kin from foemen knew!\n\nFell the young prince of Kalinga by the wrathful Bhima slain,\nBut against Kalinga's monarch baffled Bhima fought in vain,\n\nSafely sat the eastern monarch on his _howda's_ lofty seat,\nTill upon the giant tusker Bhima sprang with agile feet,\n\nThen he struck with fatal fury, brave Kalinga fell in twain,\nScattered fled his countless forces, when they saw their leader slain!\n\nDarkly rolled the tide of battle where Duryodhan's valiant son\nStrove against the son of Arjun famed for deeds of valour done,\n\nProud Duryodhan marked the contest with a father's anxious heart,\nCame to save his gallant Lakshman from brave Abhimanyu's dart,\n\nAnd the helmet-wearing Arjun marked his son among his foes,\nWheeled from far his battle-chariot and in wrath terrific rose!\n\n\"Arjun!\" \"Arjun!\" cried the Kurus, and in panic broke and fled,\nSteed and tusker turned from battle, soldiers fell among the dead!\n\nGodlike Krishna drove the coursers of resistless Arjun's car,\nAnd the sound of Arjun's _sankha_ rose above the cry of war!\n\nAnd the voice of his _gandiva_ spread a terror far and near,\nCrushed and broken, faint and frightened, fled the Kurus in their fear!\n\nOnward still through scattered foemen conquering Arjun held his way,\nTill the evening's gathering darkness closed the action of the day!\n\nIII\n\nBhishma and Arjun meet\n\nAnxious was the proud Duryodhan when the golden morning came,\nFor before the car of Arjun fled each Kuru chief of fame,\n\nBrave Duryodhan shook in anger and a tremor moved his frame,\nAs he spake to ancient Bhishma words of wrath in bitter shame:\n\n\"Bhishma! dost thou lead the Kurus in this battle's crimson field?\nWarlike Drona, doth he guard us like a broad and ample shield?\n\nWherefore then before yon Arjun do the valiant Kurus fly?\nWherefore doth our leader linger when he hears the battle cry?\n\nDoth a secret love for Pandavs quell our leader's matchless might?\nWith a halting zeal for Kurus doth the noble Bhishma fight?\n\nPardon, chief! if for the Pandavs doth thy partial heart incline,\nYield thy place! let faithful Karna lead my gallant Kuru line!\"\n\nAnger flamed on Bhishma's forehead and the tear was in his eye,\nAnd in accents few and trembling thus the warrior made reply:\n\n\"Vain our toil, unwise Duryodhan! Nor can Bhishma warrior old,\nNor can Drona skilled in weapons, Karna archer proud and bold,\n\nWash the stain of deeds unholy and of wrongs and outraged laws,\nConquer with a load of cunning 'gainst a right and righteous cause!\n\nDeaf to wisdom's voice, Duryodhan! deaf to parents and to kin,\nThou shalt perish in thy folly, in thy unrepented sin!\n\nFor the wrongs and insults offered unto good Yudhishthir's wife,\nFor the kingdom from him stolen, for the plots against his life,\n\nFor the dreadful oath of Bhima, for the holy counsel given,\nVainly given by saintly Krishna, thou art doomed by righteous Heaven!\n\nMeanwhile since he leads thy forces, Bhishma still shall meet his foe,\nOr to conquer, or to perish, to the battle's front I go.\"\n\nSpeaking thus, unto the battle ancient Bhishma held his way,\nSweeping all before his chariot as upon a previous day,\n\nAnd the army of Yudhishthir shook from end to farthest end,\nArjun nor the valiant Krishna could against the tide contend!\n\nCars were shattered, fled the coursers, elephants were pierced and slain,\nShafts of chariots, broken standards, lifeless soldiers strewed the plain!\n\nCoats of mail were left by warriors as they ran with streaming hair,\nSoldiers fled like herds of cattle stricken by a sudden fear!\n\nKrishna, Arjun's chariot-driver, and a chief of righteous fame,\nMarked the broken Pandav forces, spake in grief and bitter shame:\n\n\"Arjun! not in hour of battle hath it been they wont to fly,\nForward lay thy path of glory, or to conquer or to die!\n\nIf to-day with angry Bhishma Arjun shuns the dubious fight,\nShame on Krishna! if he joins thee in this sad inglorious flight!\n\nBe it mine alone, O Arjun! warrior's wonted work to know,\nKrishna with his fiery discus smites the all-resistless foe!\"\n\nThen he flung the reins to Arjun, left the steeds and sounding car,\nLeaped upon the field of battle, rushed into the dreadful war!\n\n\"Shame!\" cried Arjun in his anger, \"Krishna shall not wage the fight,\nNor shall Arjun like a recreant seek for safety in his flight!\"\n\nAnd he dashed behind the warrior, and on foot the chief pursued,\nCaught him as the angry Krishna still his distant foeman viewed,\n\nStalwart Arjun lifted Krishna, as the storm lifts up a tree,\nPlaced him on his battle-chariot, and he bent to him his knee:\n\n\"Pardon, Krishna, this compulsion! pardon this transgression bold,\nBut while Arjun lives, O chieftain! weapon of thy wrath withhold!\n\nBy my warlike Abhimanyu, fair Subhadra's darling boy,\nBy my brothers, dearer, truer, than in hours of pride and joy,\n\nBy my troth I pledge thee, Krishna,--let thy angry discus sleep,--\nArcher Arjun meets his foeman, and his plighted word will keep.\"\n\nForthwith rushed the fiery Arjun in his sounding battle-car,\nAnd like waves before him parted serried ranks of hostile war,\n\nVainly hurled his lance Duryodhan 'gainst the valiant warrior's face,\nVainly Salya, king of Madra, threw with skill his pond'rous mace,\n\nWith disdain the godlike Arjun dashed the feeble darts aside,\nHold aloft his famed _gandiva_ as he stood with haughty pride,\n\nBeat of drum and blare of _sankha_ and the thunder of his car,\nAnd his weapon's fearful accents rose terrific near and far!\n\nCame resistless Pandav forces, sweeping onward wave on wave,\nChedis, Matsyas, and Panchalas, chieftains true and warriors brave!\n\nOnward too came forth the Kurus, by the matchless Bhishma led,\nShouts arose and cry of anguish midst the dying and the dead!\n\nBut the evening closed in darkness, and the night-fires fitful flared,\nFainting troops and bleeding chieftains to their various tents repaired!\n\nIV\n\nDuryodhan's Brothers slain\n\nDawned another day of battle; Kurus knew that day too well,\nWidowed queens of fair Hastina wept before the evening fell!\n\nFor as whirlwind of destruction Bhima swept in mighty wrath,\nBroke the serried line of tuskers vainly sent to cross his path,\n\nSmote Duryodhan with his arrows, three terrific darts and five,\nSmote proud Salya; from the battle scarce they bore the chiefs alive!\n\nThen Duryodhan's fourteen brothers rushed into the dreadful fray,\nFatal was the luckless moment, inauspicious was the day!\n\nLicked his mouth the vengeful Bhima, and he shook his bow and lance,\nAs the lion lolls his red tongue when he see his prey advance,\n\nShort and fierce the furious combat; six pale princes turned and fled,\nEight of proud Duryodhan's brothers fell and slumbered with the dead!\n\nV\n\nSatyaki's Sons slain\n\nMorning with her fiery radiance oped the portals of the day,\nShone once more on Kuru warriors, Pandav chiefs in dread array!\n\nBhima and the gallant Arjun led once more the van of war,\nBut the proud preceptor Drona faced them in his sounding car!\n\nStill with gallant son of Arjun, Lakshman strove with bow and shield,\nVainly strove; his faithful henchman bore him bleeding from the field!\n\nLakshman, son of proud Duryodhan! Abhimanyu, Arjun's son,\nDoomed to die in youth and glory 'neath the same revolving sun!\n\nSad the day for Vrishni warriors! Brave Satyaki's sons of might,\n'Gainst the cruel Bhuri-sravas strove in unrelenting fight,\n\nTen brave brothers, pride of Vrishni, fell upon that fatal day,\nSlain by mighty Bhuri-sravas, and upon the red field lay!\n\nVI\n\nBhima's Danger and Rescue\n\nDawned another day of slaughter; heedless Bhima forced his way,\nThrough Duryodhan's serried legions, where dark death and danger lay,\n\nAnd a hundred foemen gathered, and unequal was the strife,\nBhima strove with furious valour, for his forfeit was his life!\n\nFair Panchala's watchful monarch saw the danger from afar,\nForced his way where bleeding Bhima fought beside his shattered car,\n\nAnd he helped the fainting warrior, placed him on his chariot-seat,\nBut the Kurus darkly gathered, surging round as waters meet!\n\nArjun's son and twelve brave chieftains dashed into the dubious fray,\nRescued Bhima and proud Drupad from the Kurus' grim array,\n\nSurging still the Kuru forces onward came with ceaseless might,\nDrona smote the scattered Pandavs till the darksome hours of night!\n\nVII\n\nPandavs routed by Bhishma\n\nMorning came and angry Arjun rushed into the dreadful war,\nKrishna drove his milk-white coursers, onward flew his sounding car,\n\nAnd before his monkey banner quailed the faint and frightened foes,\nTill like star on billowy ocean Bhishma's palm-tree banner rose!\n\nVainly then the good Yudhishthir, stalwart Bhima, Arjun brave,\nStrove with useless toil and valour shattered ranks of war to save,\n\nVainly too the Pandav brothers on the peerless Bhishma fell,\nGods in sky nor earthly warriors Bhishma's matchless might could quell!\n\nFell Yudhishthir's lofty standard, shook his chariot battle-tost,\nFell his proud and fiery coursers, and the dreadful day was lost!\n\nSahadeva and Nakula vainly strove with all their might,\nTill their broken scattered forces rested in the shades of night!\n\nVIII\n\nIravat slain: Duryodhan's Brothers slain\n\nMorning saw the turn of battle; Bhishma's charioteer was slain,\nAnd his coursers uncontrolled flew across the reddened plain,\n\nIll it fared with Kuru forces when their leader went astray,\nAnd their foremost chiefs and warriors with the dead and dying lay.\n\nBut Gandhara's mounted princes rode across the battle-ground,--\nFor its steeds and matchless chargers is Gandhara's realm renowned,\n\nAnd to smite the young Iravat fierce Gandhara's princes swore,--\nBrave Iravat, son of Arjun, whom a Naga princess bore!\n\nMounted on their milk-white chargers proudly did the princes sweep,\nLike the sea-birds skimming gaily o'er the bosom of the deep,\n\nFive of stout Gandhara's princes in that fatal combat fell,\nAnd a sixth in fear and faintness fled the woeful tale to tell!\n\nShort, alas, Iravat's triumph, transient was the victor's joy,\nAlumbusha dark and dreadful came against the gallant boy,\n\nFierce and fateful was the combat, mournful is the tale to tell,\nLike a lotus rudely severed, gallant son of Arjun fell!\n\nArjun heard the tale of sorrow, and his heart was filled with grief,\nThus he spake a father's anguish, faint his accents, few and brief:\n\n\"Wherefore, Krishna, for a kingdom mingle in this fatal fray,\nKinsmen killed and comrades slaughtered,--dear, alas! the price we pay!\n\nWoe unto Hastina's empire built upon our children's grave!\nDearer than the throne of monarchs was Iravat young and brave!\n\nYoung in years and rich in beauty, with thy mother's winsome eye!\nArt thou slain, my gallant warrior, and thy father was not nigh?\n\nBut thy young blood calls for vengeance! noble Krishna, drive the car,\nLet them feel the father's prowess, those who slew the son in war!\"\n\nAnd he dashed the glistening tear-drop, and his words were few and brief,\nBroken ranks and slaughtered chieftains spoke an angry father's grief!\n\nBhima too revenged Iravat, and as onward still he flew,\nBrothers of the proud Duryodhan in that fatal combat slew!\n\nStill advanced the fatal carnage till the darksome close of day,\nWhen the wounded and the weary with the dead and lying lay!\n\nIX\n\nPandavs routed by Bhishma\n\nFell the thickening shades of darkness on the red and ghastly plain,\nTorches by the white tents flickered, red fires showed the countless slain,\n\nWith a bosom sorrow-laden proud Duryodhan drew his breath,\nWept the issue of the battle and his warlike brother's death.\n\nSpent with grief and silent sorrow slow the Kuru monarch went\nWhere arose in dewy starlight Bhishma's proud and snowy tent,\n\nAnd with tears and hands conjoined thus the sad Duryodhan spoke,\nAnd his mournful bitter accents oft by heaving sighs were broke:\n\n\"Bhishma! on thy matchless prowess Kuru's hopes and fates depend,\nGods nor men with warlike Bhishma can in field of war contend!\n\nBrave in war are sons of Pandu, but they face not Bhishma's might,\nIn their fierce and deathless hatred slay my brothers in the fight!\n\nMind thy pledge, O chief of Kurus, save Hastina's royal race,\nOn the ancient king my father grant thy never-failing grace!\n\nIf within thy noble bosom,--pardon cruel words I say,--\nSecret love for sons of Pandu holds a soft and partial sway,\n\nIf thy inner heart's affection unto Pandu's sons incline,\nGrant that Karna lead my forces 'gainst the foeman's hostile line!\"\n\nBhishma's heart was full of sadness and his eyelids dropped a tear,\nSoft and mournful were his accents and his vision true and clear:\n\n\"Vain, Duryodhan, is this contest, and thy mighty host is vain,\nWhy with blood of friendly nations drench this red and reeking plain?\n\nThey must win who, strong in virtue, fight for virtue's stainless laws,\nDoubly armed the stalwart warrior who is armed in righteous cause!\n\nThink, Duryodhan, when _gandharvas_ took thee captive and a slave,\nDid not Arjun rend thy fetters, Arjun righteous chief and brave?\n\nWhen in Matsya's fields of pasture captured we Virata's kine,\nDid not Arjun in his valour beat thy countless force and mine?\n\nKrishna now hath come to Arjun, Krishna drives his battle-car,\nGods nor men can face these heroes in the field of righteous war!\n\nRuin frowns on thee, Duryodhan, and upon thy impious State,\nIn thy pride and in thy folly thou hast courted cruel fate!\n\nBhishma still will do his duty, and his end it is not far,\nThen may other chieftains follow,--fatal is this Kuru war!\"\n\nDawned a day of mighty slaughter and of dread and deathful war,\nAncient Bhishma, in his anger drove once more his sounding car!\n\nMorn to noon and noon to evening none could face the victor's wrath,\nBroke and shattered, faint and frightened, Pandavs fled before his path!\n\nStill amidst the dead and dying moved his proud resistless car,\nTill the gathering night and darkness closed the horrors of the war!\n\nX\n\nFall of Bhishma\n\nGood Yudhishthir gazed with sorrow on the dark and ghastly plain,\nShed his tears on chiefs and warriors by the matchless Bhishma slain!\n\n\"Vain this unavailing battle, vain this woeful loss of life,\n'Gainst the death-compelling Bhishma hopeless in this arduous strife!\n\nAs a lordly tusker tramples on a marsh of feeble reeds,\nAs a forest conflagration on the parched woodland feeds,\n\nBhishma rides upon my warriors in his mighty battle-car,\nGod nor mortal chief can face him in the gory field of war!\n\nVain our toil, and vain the valour of our kinsmen loved and lost,\nVainly fight my faithful brothers by a luckless fortune crost,\n\nNations pour their life-blood vainly, ceaseless wakes the sound of woe,\nKrishna, stop this cruel carnage, unto woods once more we go!\"\n\nSad they hold a midnight council and the chiefs in silence meet,\nAnd they went to ancient Bhishma, love and mercy to entreat,\n\nBhishma loved the sons of Pandu with a father's loving heart,\nBut from troth unto Duryodhan righteous Bhishma would not part!\n\n\"Sons of Pandu!\" said the chieftain, \"Prince Duryodhan is my lord,\nBhishma is no faithless servant nor will break his plighted word,\n\nValiant are ye, noble princes, but the chief is yet unborn,\nWhile I lead the course of battle, who the tide of war can turn!\n\nListen more. With vanquished foeman, or who falls or takes to fight,\nCasts his weapons, craves for mercy, ancient Bhishma doth not fight,\n\nBhishma doth not fight a rival who submits, fatigued and worn,\nBhishma doth not fight the wounded, doth not fight a woman born!\"\n\nBack unto their tents the Pandavs turn with Krishna deep and wise,\nHe unto the anxious Arjun thus in solemn whisper cries:\n\n\"Arjun, there is hope of triumph! Hath not truthful Bhishma sworn,\nHe will fight no wounded warrior, he will fight no woman born?\n\nFemale child was brave Sikhandin, Drupad's youngest son of pride,\nGods have turned him to a warrior, placed him by Yudhishthir's side!\n\nPlace him in the van of battle, mighty Bhishma leaves the strife,\nThen with ease we fight and conquer, and the forfeit is his life!\"\n\n\"Shame!\" exclaimed the angry Arjun, \"not in secret heroes fight,\nNot behind a child or woman screen their valour and their might!\n\nKrishna, loth is archer Arjun to pursue this hateful strife,\nTrick against the sinless Bhishma, fraud upon his spotless life!\n\nKnowest thou good and noble Krishna; as a child I climbed his knee,\nAs a boy I called him father, hung upon him lovingly?\n\nPerish conquest! dearly purchased by a mean deceitful strife!\nPerish crown and jewelled sceptre! won with Bhishma's saintly life!\"\n\nGravely answered noble Krishna: \"Bhishma falls by close of day,\nVictim to the cause of virtue, he himself hath showed the way!\n\nDear or hated be the foeman, Arjun, thou shalt fight and slay,\nWherefore else the blood of nations hast thou poured from day to day?\"\n\nMorning dawned, and mighty Arjun, Abhimanyu young and bold,\nDrupad monarch of Panchala, and Virata stern and old,\n\nBrave Yudhishthir and his brothers clad in arms and shining mail,\nRushed to war where Bhishma's standard gleamed and glittered in the gale!\n\nProud Duryodhan marked their onset, and its fatal purpose knew,\nAnd his bravest men and chieftains 'gainst the fiery Pandavs threw,\n\nWith Kamboja's stalwart monarch and with Drona's mighty son,\nWith the valiant bowman Kripa stemmed the battle still unwon!\n\nAnd his younger, fierce Duhsasan, thirsting for the deathful war,\n'Gainst the helmet-wearing Arjun drew his mighty battle-car,\n\nAs the high and rugged mountain meets the angry ocean's sway,\nProud Duhsasan warred with Arjun in his wild and onward way,\n\nAnd as myriad white-winged sea-birds swoop upon the darksome wave,\nClouds of darts and glistening lances drank the red blood of the brave!\n\nOther warlike Kuru chieftains came, the bravest and the best,\nDrona's self and Bhagadatta, monarch of the farthest East,\n\nCar-borne Salya, mighty warrior, king of Madra's distant land,\nPrinces from Avanti's regions, chiefs from Malav's rocky strand,\n\nJayadratha, matchless fighter, king of Sindhu's sounding shore,\nChetrasena and Vikarna, countless chiefs and warriors more!\n\nAnd they faced the fiery Pandavs, peerless in their warlike might,\nLong and dreadful raged the combat, darkly closed the dubious fight,\n\nDust arose like clouds of summer, glistening darts like lightning played,\nDarksome grew the sky with arrows, thicker grew the gloomy shade,\n\nCars went down and mailed horsemen, soldiers fell in dread array,\nElephants with white tusks broken and with mangled bodies lay!\n\nArjun and the stalwart Bhima, piercing through their countless foes,\nSide by side impelled their chariots, where the palm-tree standard rose!\n\nWhere the peerless ancient Bhishma on that dark and fatal day,\nWarring with the banded nations, still resistless held his way!\n\nOn he came, his palm-tree standard still the front of battle knew,\nAnd like sun from dark clouds parting Bhishma burst on Arjun's view!\n\nAnd his eyes brave Arjun shaded at the awe-inspiring sight,\nHalf he wished to turn for shelter from that chief of godlike might!\n\nBut bold Krishna drove his chariot, whispered unto him his plan,\nArjun placed the young Sikhandin in the deathful battle's van!\n\nBhishma viewed the Pandav forces with a calm unmoving face,\nSaw not Arjun's fair _gandiva_, saw not Bhima's mighty mace,\n\nSmiled to see the young Sikhandin rushing to the battle's fore,\nLike the foam upon the billow when the mighty storm-winds roar!\n\nBhishma thought of word he plighted and of oath that he had sworn,\nDropped his arms before the warrior who was but a female born!\n\nAnd the standard which no warrior ever saw in base retreat,\nIdly stood upon the chariot, threw its shade on Bhishma's seat!\n\nAnd the flagstaff fell dissevered on the crushed and broken car,\nAs from azure sky of midnight falls the meteor's flaming star!\n\nNot by young Sikhandin's arrows Bhishma's palm-tree standard fell,\nNot Sikhandin's feeble lances did the peerless Bhishma quell,\n\nTrue to oath the bleeding chieftan turned his darkening face away,\nTurned and fell; the sun declining marked the closing of the day.\n\nEnded thus the fatal battle, truce came with the close of day,\nKurus and the silent Pandavs went where Bhishma dying lay,\n\nArjun wept as for a father weeps a sad and sorrowing son,\nGood Yudhishthir cursed the morning Kuru-kshetra's war begun,\n\nStood Duryodhan and his brothers mantled in the gloom of grief,\nFoes like loving brothers sorrowed round the great the dying chief!\n\nArjun's keen and pointed arrows made the hero's dying bed,\nAnd in soft and gentle accents to Duryodhan thus he said:\n\n\"List unto my words, Duryodhan, uttered with my latest breath,\nList to Bhishma's dying counsel and revere the voice of death!\n\nEnd this dread and deathful battle if thy stony heart can grieve,\nSave the chieftains doomed to slaughter, bid the fated nations live!\n\nGrant his kingdom to Yudhishthir, righteous man beloved of Heaven,\nKeep thy own Hastina's regions, be the hapless past forgiven!\"\n\nVain, alas! the voice of Bhishma like the voice of angel spoke,\nHatred dearer than his life-blood in the proud Duryodhan woke!\n\nDarker grew the gloomy midnight, and the princes went their way,\nOn his bed of pointed arrows Bhishma lone and dying lay,\n\nKarna, though he loved not Bhishma whilst the chieftain lived in fame,\nGently to the dying Bhishma in the midnight darkness came!\n\nBhishma heard the tread of Karna, and he oped his glazing eye,\nSpake in love and spake in sadness, and his bosom heaved a sigh:\n\n\"Pride and envy, noble Karna, filled our warlike hearts with strife,\nDiscord ends with breath departing, envy sinks with fleeting life!\n\nMore I have to tell thee, Karna, but my parting breath may fail,\nFeeble are my dying accents, and my parched lips are pale!\n\nArjun beats not noble Karna in the deeds of valour done,\nNor excels in birth and lineage, Karna, thou art Pritha's son!\n\nPritha bore thee, still unwedded, and the Sun inspired thy birth,\nGod-born man! No mightier archer treads this broad and spacious earth!\n\nPritha cast thee in her sorrow, hid thee with a maiden's shame,\nAnd a driver, not thy father, nursed thee, chief of warlike fame!\n\nArjun is thy brother, Karna, end this sad fraternal war,\nSeek not life-blood of thy brother, nor against him drive thy car!\"\n\nVain, alas! the voice of Bhishma like a heavenly warning spoke,\nHatred dearer than his life-blood in the vengeful Karna woke!\n\n\n\n\nBOOK IX\n\nDRONA-BADHA\n\n(Fall of Drona)\n\n\nOn the fall of Bhishma the Brahman chief Drona, preceptor of the Kuru\nand Pandav princes, was appointed the leader of the Kuru forces. For\nfive days Drona held his own against the Pandavs, and some of the\nincidents of these days, like the fall of Abhimanyu and the vengeance\nof Arjun, are among the most stirring passages in the Epic. The\ndescription of the different standards of the Pandav and the Kuru\nwarriors is also interesting. At last Drona slew his ancient foe the\nking of the Panchalas, and was then slain by his son the prince of\nthe Panchalas.\n\nThe Book is an abridgment of Book vii. of the original text.\n\nI\n\nSingle Combat between Bhima and Salya\n\nMorning ushered in the battle; Pandav warriors heard with dread\nDrona priest and proud preceptor now the Kuru forces led,\n\nAnd the foe-compelling Drona pledged his troth and solemn word,\nHe would take Yudhishthir captive to Hastina's haughty lord!\n\nBut the ever faithful Arjun to his virtuous elder bowed,\nAnd in clear and manful accents spake his warlike thoughts aloud:\n\n\"Sacred is our great preceptor, sacred is _acharya's_ life,\nArjun may not slay his teacher even in this mortal strife!\n\nSaving this, command, O monarch, Arjun's bow and warlike sword,\nFor thy safety, honoured elder, Arjun stakes his plighted word!\n\nMatchless in the art of battle is our teacher fierce and dread,\nBut he comes not to Yudhishthir save o'er blood of Arjun shed!\"\n\nMorning witnessed doughty Drona foremost in the battle's tide,\nBut Yudhishthir's warlike chieftains compassed him on every side,\n\nForemost of the youthful chieftains came resistless Arjun's son,--\nFather's blood and milk of mother fired his deeds of valour done,\n\nAs the lion of the jungle drags the ox into his lair,\nAbhimanyu from his chariot dragged Paurava by the hair!\n\nJayadratha king of Sindhu marked the faint and bleeding chief,\nLeaping from his car of battle, wrathful came to his relief,\n\nAbhimanyu left his captive, turned upon the mightier foe,\nAnd with sword and hardened buckler gave and parried many a blow,\n\nRank to rank from both the forces cry of admiration rose,\nStreaming men poured forth in wonder, watched the combat fierce and close!\n\nPiercing Abhimanyu's buckler Jayadratha sent his stroke,\nBut the turned and twisted sword-blade snapping in the midway broke,\n\nWeaponless the king of Sindhu ran into his sheltering car,\nSalya came unto his rescue from a battle-field afar,\n\nDauntless, on the new assailant, Arjun's son his weapon drew,\nInterposing 'twixt the fighters Bhima's self on Salya flew!\n\nStoutest wrestlers in the armies, peerless fighters with the mace,\nBhima and the stalwart Salya stood opposed face to face!\n\nHempen fastening bound their maces and the wire of twisted gold,\nWhirling bright in circling flashes, shook their staff the warriors bold!\n\nOft they struck, and sparks of red fire issued from the seasoned wood,\nAnd like horned bulls infuriate Madra's king and Bhima stood!\n\nCloser still they came like tigers closing with their reddened paws,\nOr like tuskers with their red tusks, eagles with their rending claws!\n\nLoud as INDRA'S peals of thunder still their blows were echoed round\nRank to rank the startled soldiers heard the oft-repeated sound!\n\nBut as strikes in vain the lightning on the solid mountain-rock,\nBhima nor the fearless Salya fell or moved beneath the shock!\n\nCloser drew the watchful heroes, and their clubs were wielded well,\nTill by many blows belaboured both the fainting fighters fell!\n\nLike a drunkard dazed and reeling Bhima rose his staff to wield,\nSenseless Salya, heavy-breathing, henchman carried from the field,\n\nWrithing like a wounded serpent, lifted from the field of war,\nHe was carried by his soldiers to the shelter of his car!\n\nDrona still with matchless prowess would redeem his plighted word,\nSought to take Yudhishthir captive to Duryodhan, Kuru's lord,\n\nVainly then the twin-born brothers came to cross the conqueror's path,\nMatsya's lord, Panchala's monarch, vainly faced him in his wrath,\n\nRank to rank the cry resounded circling o'er the battle-field,\n\"Drona takes Yudhishthir captive with his weapons, sword and shield!\"\n\nArjun heard the dreadful message and in haste and fury came,\nStrove to save his king and elder and redeem his loyal fame,\n\nSpeeding with his milk-white coursers dashed into the thick of war,\nBlew his shrill and dreaded _sankha_, drove his sounding battle-car,\n\nFiercer, darker grew the battle, when above the reddened plain,\nEvening drew her peaceful mantle o'er the living and the slain!\n\nII\n\nStandards of the Pandavs\n\nMorning came; still round Yudhishthir Drona led the gathering war,\nArjun fought the Sam-saptakas in the battle-field afar,\n\nBut the prince of fair Panchala marked his father's ancient foe,\nAnd against the doughty Drona, Dhrishta-dyumna bent his bow!\n\nBut as darksome cloudy masses angry gusts of storm divide,\nThrough the scattered fainting foemen Drona drove his car in pride,\n\nSteeds went down and riven chariots, young Panchala turned and fled,\nOnward drove resistless Drona o'er the dying and the dead!\n\nOne more prince of fair Panchala 'gainst the mighty Drona came,--\nAncient feud ran in the red blood of Panchala's chiefs of fame,--\n\nFated youth! with reckless valour still he fought his father's foe,\nFought and fell; relentless Drona laid the brave Satyajit low!\n\nSurging still like ocean's billows other Pandav warriors came,\nTo protect their virtuous monarch and redeem their ancient fame,\n\nCame in various battle-chariots drawn by steeds of every hue,\nVarious were the chieftains' standards which the warring nations knew!\n\nBhima drove his stalwart horses tinted like the dappled deer,\nGrey and pigeon-coloured coursers bore Panchala's prince and peer,\n\nHorses bred in famed Kamboja, fiery, parrot-green in hue,\nBrave Nakula's sumptuous chariot in the deathful battle drew,\n\nPiebald horses trained to battle did young Sahadeva rein,\nIvory-white Yudhishthir's coursers with their flowing ebon mane,\n\nAnd by him with gold umbrella valiant monarch Drupad came,\nHorses of a bright-bay colour carried Matsya's king of fame.\n\nVaried as their various coursers gallantly their standards rose,\nWith their wondrous strange devices, terror of their armed foes!\n\nWater-jar on tawny deerskin, such was Drona's sign of war,--\nDrona as a tender infant rested in a water-jar,\n\nGolden moon with stars surrounding was Yudhishthir's sign of yore,\nSilver lion was the standard tiger-waisted Bhima bore,\n\nBrave Nakula's sign was red deer with its back of burnished gold,\nSilver swan with bells resounding Sahadeva's onset told,\n\nGolden peacock rich-emblazoned was young Abhimanyu's joy,\nVulture shone on Ghatotkacha, Bhima's proud and gallant boy.\n\nNow Duryodhan marked the foemen heaving like the rising tide,\nAnd he faced the wrathful Bhima towering in his tameless pride,\n\nShort the war, for proud Duryodhan wounded from the battle fled,\nAnd his warriors from fair Anga rested with the countless dead!\n\nWild with anger Bhagadatta, monarch of the farthest East,\nWith his still unconquered forces on the valiant Bhima pressed,\n\nCame from far the wrathful Arjun and the battle's front he sought,\nWhere by eastern foes surrounded still the stalwart Bhima fought!\n\nFated monarch from the far-east Brahma-putra's sounding shore,\nLand of rising sun will hail him and his noble peers no more,\n\nFor his tusker pierced by arrows trumpeted his dying wail,\nLike a red and flaming meteor gallant Bhagadatta fell!\n\nThen with rising wrath and anguish Karna's noble bosom bled,--\nKarna, who had stayed from battle while his rival Bhishma led,\n\nAncient hate and jealous anger clouded Karna's warlike heart,\nAnd while Bhishma led, all idly slumbered Karna's bow and dart!\n\nNow he marked with warrior's anguish all his comrades fled afar,\nAnd his foeman Arjun sweeping o'er the red field of the war!\n\nHatred like a tongue of red fire shot from Karna's flaming eye,\nAnd he sprang to meet his foeman or to conquer or to die!\n\nFierce and dubious was the battle, answering clouds gave back the din,\nKarna met his dearest foeman and, alas! his nearest kin!\n\nBhima and Panchala's warriors unto Arjun's rescue came,\nProud Duryodhan came to Karna, and fair Sindhu's king of fame!\n\nFiercely raged the gory combat, when the night its shadows threw,\nWounded men and blood-stained chieftains to their nightly tents withdrew!\n\nIII\n\nAbhimanyu's Death\n\nFatal was the blood-red morning purpling o'er the angry east,\nFatal day for Abhimanyu, bravest warrior and the best,\n\nCountless were the gallant chieftains like the sands beside the sea,\nNone with braver bosom battled, none with hands more stout and free!\n\nBrief, alas! thy radiant summers, fair Subhadra's gallant boy,\nLoved of Matsya's soft-eyed princess and her young heart's pride and joy!\n\nBrief, alas! thy sunlit winters, light of war too early quenched,\nPeerless son of peerless Arjun, in the blood of foemen drenched!\n\nDrona on that fatal morning ranged his dreadful battle-line\nIn a circle darkly spreading where the chiefs with chiefs combine,\n\nAnd the Pandavs looked despairing on the battle's dread array,\nVainly strove to force a passage, vainly sought their onward way!\n\nAbhimanyu, young and fiery, dashed alone into the war,\nReckless through the shattered forces all resistless drove his car,\n\nElephants and crashing standards, neighing steeds and warriors slain\nFell before the furious hero as he made a ghastly lane!\n\nProud Duryodhan rushed to battle, strove to stop the turning tide,\nAnd his stoutest truest warriors fought by proud Duryodhan's side,\n\nOnward still went Abhimanyu, Kurus strove and fought in vain,\nBackward reeled and fell Duryodhan and his bravest chiefs were slain!\n\nNext came Salya car-borne monarch 'gainst the young resistless foe,\nUrged his fiery battle-coursers, stretched his dread unerring bow,\n\nOnward still went Abhimanyu, Salya strove and fought in vain,\nAnd his warriors took him bleeding from the reddened battle-plain!\n\nNext Duhsasan darkly lowering thundered with his bended bow,\nAbhimanyu smiled to see him, kinsman and the dearest foe,\n\n\"Art thou he,\" said Abhimanyu, \"known for cruel word and deed,\nImpious in thy heart and purpose, base and ruthless in thy greed?\n\nDidst thou with the false Sakuni win a realm by low device,\nWin his kingdom from Yudhishthir by ignoble trick of dice?\n\nDidst thou in the council chamber with your insults foul and keen\nBy her flowing raven tresses drag Yudhishthir's stainless queen?\n\nDidst thou speak to warlike Bhima as thy serf and bounden slave,\nWrong my father, righteous Arjun, peerless prince and warrior brave?\n\nWelcome! I have sought thee often, wished to cross thy tainted path,\nWelcome! Dearest of all victims to my nursed and cherished wrath!\n\nReap the meed of sin and insult, draw on earth thy latest breath,\nFor I owe to Queen Draupadi, impious prince, thy speedy death!\"\n\nLike a snake upon an ant-hill, on Duhsasan's wicked heart,\nFell with hissing wrath and fury Abhimanyu's fiery dart!\n\nFrom the loss of blood Duhsasan fainted on his battle-car,\nKuru chieftains bore him senseless from the blood-stained scene of war!\n\nNext in gleaming arms accoutred came Duryodhan's gallant son,\nProud and warlike as his father, famed for deeds of valour done,\n\nYoung in years and rich in valour, for alas! he fought too well,\nAnd before his weeping father proud and gallant Lakshman fell!\n\nOnward still went Abhimanyu midst the dying and the dead,\nShook from rank to rank the Kurus and their shattered army fled!\n\nThen the impious Jayadratha, king of Sindhu's sounding shore,\nCame forth in unrighteous concert with six car-borne warriors more,\n\nDarkly closed the fatal circle with the gulfing surge's moan,\nDauntless, with the seven brave chieftains Abhimanyu fought alone!\n\nFell, alas! his peacock standard and his car was broke in twain,\nBow and sabre rent and shattered and his faithful driver slain,\n\nHeedless yet of death and danger, misty with the loss of blood,\nAbhimanyu wiped his forehead, gazed where dark his foemen stood!\n\nThen with wild despairing valour, flickering flame and closing life,\nMace in hand the heedless warrior rushed to end the mortal strife,\n\nRushed upon his startled foemen, Abhimanyu fought and fell,\nAnd his deeds to distant ages bards and wand'ring minstrels tell!\n\nLike a tusker of the forest by surrounding hunters slain,\nLike a wood-consuming wildfire quenched upon the distant plain,\n\nLike a mountain-shaking tempest, spent in force and hushed and still,\nLike the red resplendent day-god setting on the western hill,\n\nLike the moon serene and beauteous quenched in eclipse, dark and pale,\nLifeless slumbered Abhimanyu when the softened starlight fell!\n\nDone the day of death and slaughter, darkening shadows close around,\nWearied warriors seek for shelter on the vast and tented ground,\n\nSoldiers' camp-fires brightly blazing, tent-lights shining from afar,\nCast their fitful gleam and radiance on the carnage of the war!\n\nArjun from a field at distance, where upon that day he fought,\nWith the ever faithful Krishna now his nightly shelter sought,\n\n\"Wherefore, Krishna,\" uttered Arjun, \"evil omens strike my eye,\nThoughts of sadness fill my bosom, wake the long-forgotten sigh?\n\nWherefore voice of evening bugle speaks not on the battle-field,\nMerry conch nor sounding trumpet music to the warriors yield?\n\nHarp is hushed within the dark tents and the voice of warlike song,\nBards beside the evening camp-fire tales of war do not prolong!\n\nGood Yudhishthir's tent is voiceless, and my brothers look so pale,\nAbhimanyu comes not joyous Krishna and his sire to hail!\n\nAbhimanyu's love and greeting bless like blessings from above,\nFair Subhadra's joy and treasure, Arjun's pride and hope and love!\"\n\nSoftly and with many tear-drops did the sad Yudhishthir tell,\nHow in dreadful field of battle gallant Abhimanyu fell!\n\nHow the impious Jayadratha fell on Arjun's youthful son,--\nHe with six proud Kuru chieftains,--Abhimanyu all alone!\n\nHow the young prince, reft of weapon and deprived of steed and car,\nFell as falls a Kshatra warrior fighting on the field of war!\n\nArjun heard; the father's bosom felt the cruel cureless wound,\n\"Brave and gallant boy!\" said Arjun;--and he sank upon the ground!\n\nMoments passed of voiceless sorrow and of speechless bitter tear,\nSobs within his mailed bosom smote the weeping listener's ear!\n\nMoments passed; with rising anger quivered Arjun's iron frame,\nAbhimanyu's cruel murder smote the father's heart to flame!\n\n\"Didst thou say that Sindhu's monarch on my Abhimanyu bore,--\nHe alone,--and Jayadratha leagued with six marauders more?\n\nDidst thou say the impious Kurus stooped unto this deed of shame,\nOutrage on the laws of honour, stain upon a warrior's fame?\n\nFather's curse and warrior's hatred sting them to their dying breath,\nFor they feared my boy in battle, hunted him to cruel death,\n\nHear my vow, benign Yudhishthir, hear me, Krishna righteous lord,\nArjun's hand shall slay the slayer, Arjun plights his solemn word!\n\nMay I never reach the bright sky where the righteous fathers dwell,\nMay I with the darkest sinners live within the deepest hell,--\n\nWith the men who slay their fathers, shed their loving mothers' blood,\nStain the sacred bed of _gurus_, steal their gold and holy food,\n\nCherish envy, cheat their kinsmen, speak the low and dastard lie,--\nIf, ere comes to-morrow's sunset, Jayadratha doth not die!\n\nJayadratha dies to-morrow, victim to my vengeful ire,\nArjun else shall yield his weapons, perish on the flaming pyre!\"\n\nSofter tear-drops wept the mother, joyless was Subhadra's life,--\nKrishna's fair and honoured sister, Arjun's dear and loved wife:\n\n\"Dost thou lie on field of battle smeared with dust and foeman's gore,\nChild of light and love and sweetness whom thy hapless mother bore?\n\nSoft thine eye as budding lotus, sweet and gentle was thy face,\nAre those soft eyes closed in slumber, faded in that peerless grace?\n\nAnd thy limbs so young and tender, on the bare earth do they lie,\nWhere the hungry jackal prowleth and the vulture flutters nigh?\n\nGold and jewels graced thy bosom, gems bedecked thy lofty crest,\nDoth the crimson mark of sabre decorate that manly breast?\n\nRend Subhadra's stony bosom with a mother's cureless grief,\nLet her follow Abhimanyu and in death obtain relief!\n\nEarth to me is void and cheerless, joyless in my hearth and home,\nDreary without Abhimanyu is this weary world to roam!\n\nAnd oh! cheerless is that young heart, Abhimanyu's princess-wife,\nWhat can sad Subhadra offer to her joyless sunless life?\n\nClose our life in equal darkness, for our day on earth is done,\nFor our love and light and treasure, Abhimanyu, dead and gone!\"\n\nLong bewailed the anguished mother, fair Draupadi tore her hair,\nMatsya's princess, early widowed, shed her young heart's blood in tear!\n\nIV\n\nStandards of the Kurus: Arjun's Revenge\n\nMorning from the face of battle night's depending curtain drew,\nLong and shrill his sounding _sankha_ then the wrathful Arjun blew,\n\nKurus knew the vow of Arjun, heard the _sankha's_ deathful blare,\nAs it rose above the red field, thrilled the startled morning air!\n\n\"Speed, my Krishna,\" out spake Arjun, as he held aloft his bow,\n\"For to-day my task is dreadful, cruel is my mighty vow!\"\n\nFiery coursers urged by Krishna flew with lightning's rapid course,\nDashing through the hostile warriors and the serried Kuru force!\n\nBrave Durmarsan faced the hero, but he strove and fought in vain,\nOnward thundered Arjun's chariot o'er the dying and the slain!\n\nFierce Duhsasan with his tuskers rushed into the fine of war,\nBut the tuskers broke in panic, onward still went Arjun's car!\n\nDrona then, the proud preceptor, Arjun's furious progress stayed,\nTear-drops filled the eye of Arjun as these gentle words he said:\n\n\"Pardon, father! if thy pupil shuns to-day thy offered war,\n'Gainst his Abhimanyu's slayer Arjun speeds his battle-car!\n\nNot against my great _acharya_ is my wrathful bow-string drawn,\nNot against a loved father fights a loving duteous son!\n\nHeavy on this bleeding bosom sits the darkening load of woe,\nAnd an injured father's vengeance seeks the slaughtered hero's foe!\n\nPardon then if sorrowing Arjun seeks a far and distant way,\nMighty is the vow of Arjun, cruel is his task to-day!\"\n\nPassing by the doughty Drona onward sped the fiery car,\nThrough the broken line of warriors, through the shattered ranks of war,\n\nAngas and the brave Kalingas vainly crossed his wrathful way,\nProud Avantis from the regions where fair Chambal's waters stray!\n\nFamed Avanti's fated princes vainly led their highland force,\nFell beneath the wrath of Arjun, stayed nor stopped his onward course,\n\nOnward still with speed of lightning thundered Arjun's battle-car,\nTo the spot where Jayadratha stood behind the ranks of war!\n\nNow the sun from highest zenith red and fiery radiance lent,\nLong and weary was the passage, Arjun's foaming steeds were spent,\n\n\"Arjun!\" said the faithful Krishna, \"arduous is thy cruel quest,\nBut thy foaming coursers falter and they need a moment's rest,\"\n\n\"Be it so,\" brave Arjun answered, \"from our chariot we alight,\nRest awhile the weary horses, Krishna, I will watch the fight!\"\n\nSpeaking thus the armed Arjun lightly leaped upon the lea,\nStood on guard with bow and arrow by the green and shady tree,\n\nKrishna groomed the jaded horses, faint and feeble, red with gore,\nWith a healing hand he tended wounds the bleeding coursers bore,\n\nWatered them beside a river by the zephyrs soft caressed,\nGave unto them welcome fodder, gave unto them needful rest,\n\nThus refreshed, the noble coursers Krishna harnessed to the car,\nAnd the gleaming helmed Arjun rushed once more into the war!\n\nCame on him the Kuru warriors, darksome wave succeeding wave,\nStandards decked with strange devices, streaming banners rich and brave,\n\nForemost was the glorious standard of preceptor Drona's son,\nLion's tail in golden brilliance on his battle-chariot shone,\n\nElephant's rope was Karna's ensign made of rich and burnished gold,\nAnd a bull bedecked the standard of the bowman Kripa bold,\n\nPeacock made of precious metal, decked with jewels rich and rare,\nVrishasena's noble standard shone aloft serene and fair,\n\nPloughshare of a golden lustre shining like the radiant flame,\nSpoke the car of mighty Salya, Madra's king of warlike fame,\n\nFar, and guarded well by chieftains, shone the dazzling silver-boar,\nEnsign proud of Jayadratha, brought from Sindhu's sounding shore,\n\nOn the car of Somadatta shone a stake of sacrifice,\nSilver-boar and golden parrots, these were Salwa's proud device,\n\nLast and brightest of the standards, on the prince Duryodhan's car,\nLordly elephant in jewels proudly shone above the war!\n\nNine heroic Kuru chieftains, bravest warriors and the best,\nLeagued they came to grapple Arjun and on faithful Krishna pressed!\n\nArjun swept like sweeping whirlwind, all resistless in his force,\nSought no foe and waged no combat, held his ever onward course!\n\nFor he sighted Jayadratha midst the circling chiefs of war,\n'Gainst that warrior, grim and silent, Arjun drove his furious car!\n\nNow the day-god rolled his chariot on the western clouds aflame,\nKarna's self and five great chieftains round brave Jayadratha came,\n\nVainly strove the valiant Arjun struggling 'gainst the Kuru line,\nCharged upon the peerless Karna as he marked the day's decline,\n\nKrishna then a prayer whispered; came a friendly sable cloud,\nVeiled the red sun's dazzling brilliance in a dark and inky shroud!\n\nKarna deemed the evening darkness now proclaimed the close of strife,\nFailing in his plighted promise Arjun must surrender life,\n\nAnd his comrade chiefs rejoicing slackened in their furious fight,\nJayadratha hailed with gladness thickening shades of welcome night!\n\nIn that sad and fatal error did the Kuru chiefs combine,\nArjun quick as bolt of lightning broke their all unguarded line,\n\nLike an onward sweeping wildfire shooting forth its lolling tongue,\nOn the startled Jayadratha Arjun in his fury flung!\n\nShort the strife; as angry falcon swoops upon its helpless prey,\nArjun sped his vengeful arrow and his foeman lifeless lay!\n\nFriendly winds removed the dark cloud from the reddening western hill,\nAnd the sun in crimson lustre cast its fiery radiance still!\n\nEre the evening's mantling darkness fell o'er distant hill and plain,\nProud Duryodhan's many brothers were by vengeful Bhima slain,\n\nAnd Duryodhan, stung by sorrow, waged the still unceasing fight,\nIn the thick and gathering darkness torches lit the gloom of night!\n\nKarna, furious in his anger for his Jayadratha slain,\nAnd for brothers of Duryodhan sleeping lifeless on the plain,\n\n'Gainst the gallant son of Bhima drove his deep resounding car,\nAnd in gloom and midnight darkness waked the echoes of the war!\n\nBhima's son brave Ghatotkacha twice proud Karna's horses slew,\nTwice the humbled steedless Karna from the dubious battle flew,\n\nCame again the fiery Karna, vengeance flamed within his heart,\nLike the midnight's lurid lightning sped his fell and fatal dart,\n\nWoeful was the hour of darkness, luckless was the starry sway,\nBhima's son in youth and valour lifeless on the red field lay!\n\nThen was closed the midnight battle, silent shone the starry light,\nBhima knew nor rest nor slumber through the long and woeful night!\n\nV\n\nFall of Drona\n\nEre the crimson morning glittered proud Duryodhan sad at heart,\nTo the leader of the Kurus did his sorrows thus impart:\n\n\"Sadly speeds the contest, Drona, on the battle's gory plain,\nKuru chiefs are thinned and fallen and my brothers mostly slain!\n\nCan it be, O beat of Brahmans! peerless in the art of war,\nCan it be that we shall falter while thou speed'st the battle-car?\n\nPandu's sons are but thy pupils, Arjun meets thee not in fight,\nNone can face the great _acharya_ in his wrath and warlike might!\n\nWherefore then in every battle are the Kuru chieftains slain,\nWherefore lie my warlike brothers lifeless on the ghastly plain?\n\nIs it that the fates of battle 'gainst the Kuru house combine,\nIs it that thy heart's affection unto Panda's sons incline?\n\nIf thy secret love and mercy still the sons of Pandu claim,\nYield thy place to gallant Karna, Anga's prince of warlike fame!\"\n\nAnswered Drona brief and wrathful: \"Fair Gandhari's royal son,\nReapest thou the gory harvest of thy sinful actions done!\n\nCast no blame in youth's presumption on a warrior's fleecy hair,\nFaithful unto death is Drona, to his promise plighted fair!\n\nAsk thyself, O prince Duryodhan! bound by battle's sacred laws,\nWherefore fightest not with Arjun for thy house and for thy cause?\n\nAsk the dark and deep Sakuni, where is now his low device,\nWherefore wields he not his weapon as he wields the loaded dice?\n\nAsk the chief who proudly boasted, archer Arjun he would slay,\nHelmed Arjun sways the battle, whither now doth Karna stay?\n\nKnow the truth; the gallant Arjun hath no peer on earth below,\nAnd no warrior breathes, Duryodhan, who can face thy helmed foe!\n\nDrona knows his sacred duty; and 'tis willed by Heaven on high,\nArjun or preceptor Drona shall in this day's battle die!\"\n\nNow the Sun in crimson splendour rolled his car of glistening gold,\nSent his shafts of purple radiance on the plain and mountain bold,\n\nAnd from elephant and charger, from each bravely bannered car,\nLighted mailed kings and chieftains and the leaders of the war,\n\nFaced the sun with hands conjoined and the sacred _mantra_ told,--\nHymns by ancient _rishis_ chanted, sanctified by bards of old!\n\nWorship done, each silent warrior mounts the car or battle-steed,\nOnward to the deathful contest did his gallant forces lead,\n\nIll it fared with Pandav forces, doughty Drona took the field,\nPeer was none midst living warriors of the Brahman trained and skilled!\n\nArjun, faithful to his promise, his preceptor would not fight,\nKing nor chief nor other archer dared to face his peerless might,\n\nBut old feud like potent poison fires the warrior's heart with strife,\nSire to son still unforgotten leaps the hate from death to life!\n\nWrathful princes of Panchala by their deathless hatred stung,\nSaw their ancient foe in Drona and on him for vengeance sprung!\n\nDarkly thought the ancient warrior of the old relentless feud,\nFiercely like a jungle-tiger fell upon the hostile brood,\n\nRoyal Drupad's valiant grandsons in their youth untimely slain,\nVictims of a deathless discord, pressed the gory battle-plain!\n\nDrupad pale with grief and anger marked his gallant grandsons dead\nAnd his army broken, routed, and his bravest chieftains fled,\n\nFilled with unforgotten hatred and with father's grief and pride,\nRushed the king, and bold Virata charged by doughty Drupad's side!\n\nRose a cry of nameless terror o'er the red and ghastly plain,\nNoble Drupad, brave Virata, lay among the countless slain!\n\nBurning tears the proud Draupadi wept for noble father killed,\nMaid and matron with their wailing fair Panchala's empire filled!\n\nMatsya's joyless, widowed princess, for her fate was early crost,\nWept with added tears and anguish for her father loved and lost!\n\nWaged the war with fearful slaughter, Drona onward urged his way,\nFate alone and battle's chances changed the fortunes of the day,\n\nAswa-thaman, son of Drona, was a chief of peerless fame,\nAnd an elephant of battle bore that chieftain's warlike name,\n\nAnd that proud and lordly tusker, Bhima in his prowess slew,\nRank to rank, from friend to foeman, then a garbled message flew:\n\n\"Aswa-thaman son of Drona is by mighty Bhima slain!\"\nDrona heard that fatal message, bent his anguished head in pain!\n\n\"Speak Yudhishthir, soul of virtue!\" thus the proud preceptor cried,\n\"Thou in truth hast never faltered, and thy lips have never lied,\n\nSpeak of valiant Aswa-thaman, Drona's hope and pride and joy,\nHath he fallen in this battle, is he slain, my gallant boy?\n\nFeeble are the hands of Drona and his prowess quenched and gone,\nFleecy are his ancient tresses and his earthly task is done!\"\n\nSaid Yudhishthir: \"Lordly tusker, Aswa-thaman named, is dead,\"\nDrona heard but half the accents, feebly drooped his sinking head!\n\nThen the prince of fair Panchala swiftly drove across the plain,\nMarked his father's cruel slayer, marked his noble father slain!\n\nDhrista-dyumna bent his weapon and his shaft was pointed well,\nAnd the priest and proud preceptor, peerless Drona lifeless fell!\n\nAnd the fatal day was ended, Kurus fled in abject fear,\nArjun for his ancient teacher dropped a silent filial tear!\n\n\n\n\nBOOK X\n\nKARNA-BADHA\n\n(Fall of Karna)\n\n\nKarna was chosen as the leader of the Kuru forces after the death of\nDrona, and held his own for two days. The great contest between Karna\nand Arjun, long expected and long deferred, came on at last. It is\nthe crowning incident of the Indian Epic, as the contest between\nHector and Achilles is the crowning incident of the Iliad. With a\ntruer artistic skill than that of Homer, the Indian poet represents\nKarna as equal to Arjun in strength and skill, and his defeat is only\ndue to an accident.\n\nAfter the death of Karna, Salya led the Kuru troops on the eighteenth\nand last day of the war, and fell. A midnight slaughter in the Pandav\ncamp, perpetrated by the vengeful son of Drona, concludes the war.\nDuryodhan, left wounded by Bhima, heard of the slaughter and died\nhappy.\n\nBooks viii., ix., and x. of the original have been abridged in this\nBook.\n\nI\n\nKarna and Arjun meet\n\nSights of red and ghastly carnage day disclosed upon the plain,\nMighty chiefs and countless warriors round the warlike Drona slain!\n\nSad Duryodhan gazed in sorrow and the tear was in his eye,\nTill his glances fell on Karna and his warlike heart beat high!\n\n\"Karna!\" so exclaimed Duryodhan, \"hero of resistless might,\nThou alone canst serve the Kuru in this dread and dubious fight,\n\nStep forth, Kuru's chief and leader, mount thy sounding battle-car,\nLead the still unconquered Kurus to the trophies of the war!\n\nMatchless was the ancient Bhishma in this famed and warlike land,\nBut a weakness for Yudhishthir palsied Bhishma's slaying hand,\n\nMatchless too was doughty Drona in the warrior's skill and art,\nKindness for his pupil Arjun lurked within the teacher's heart!\n\nGreater than the ancient grandsire, greater than the Brahman old,\nFiercer in thy deathless hatred, stronger in thy prowess bold,\n\nPeerless Karna! lead us onward to a brighter, happier fate,\nFor thy arm is nerved to action by an unforgotten hate!\n\nLead us as the martial SKANDA led the conquering gods of old,\nSmite the foe as angry INDRA smote the Danavs fierce and bold,\n\nAs before the light of morning flies the baleful gloom of night,\nPandavs and the proud Panchalas fly before thy conquering might!\"\n\nPriests with hymns and chanted _mantra_ and with every sacred rite\nHailed him Leader of the Kurus, chieftain of unconquered might,\n\nEarthen jars they placed around him with the sacred water full,\nElephant's tusk they laid beside him and the horn of mighty bull,\n\nGem and jewel, corn and produce, by the armed hero laid,\nSilken cloth of finest lustre o'er his crested head they spread,\n\nBrahmans poured the holy water, bards his lofty praises sung,\nKshatras, Vaisyas, purer Sudras hailed him Leader bold and strong!\n\n\"Vanquish warlike sons of Pritha!\" thus the holy Brahmans blessed,\nGold and garments, food and cattle, joyous Karna on them pressed!\n\nThus the holy rite concluded, Karna ranged his men in war,\nTo the dreaded front of battle drove his swift and conquering car!\n\nMorn to noon and noon to evening raged the battle on the plain,\nCountless warriors fought and perished, car-borne chiefs were pierced\n  and slain!\n\nHelmed Arjun, crested Karna, met at last by will of fate,\nLife-long was their mutual anger, deathless was their mutual hate!\n\nAnd the firm earth shook and trembled 'neath the furious rush of war,\nAnd the echoing welkin answered shouts that nations heard from far,\n\nAnd the thickening cloud of arrows filled the firmament on high,\nDarker, deeper, dread and deadlier, grew the angry face of sky,\n\nTill the evening's sable garment mantled o'er the battle-field,\nAnd the angry rivals parted, neither chief could win or yield!\n\nII\n\nFall of Karna\n\nAt the break of morning Karna unto Prince Duryodhan went,\nThus in slow and measured accents to his inner thoughts gave vent:\n\n\"Morning dawns, O Kuru's monarch! mighty Arjun shall be slain,\nOr fulfilling warrior's duty Karna dyes the gory plain!\n\nLong through life within our bosoms ever burnt the mutual hate,\nOft we met and often parted, rescued by the will of fate!\n\nBut yon sun with crimson lustre sees us meet to part no more,\nGallant Arjun's course this evening or proud Karna's shall be o'er!\n\nRoom is none for Arjun's glory and for archer Karna's fame,\nOne must sink and one must sparkle with a brighter, richer flame!\n\nList yet more; in wealth of arrows and in wondrous strength of bow,\nArjun scarcely me surpasseth, scarcely I excel my foe!\n\nIn the light skill of the archer and in sight and truth of aim,\nArjun beats not, scarcely rivals, Karna's proud and peerless fame!\n\nIf his wondrous bow _gandiva_ is the gift of gods in heaven,\nKarna's bow the famed _vijaya_ is by Par'su-Rama given!\n\nAy, the son of Jamadagni, kings of earth who proudly slayed,\nOn the youthful arms of Karna his destructive weapon laid!\n\nYet I own, O king of Kuru! Arjun doth his foe excel,--\nMatchless are his fiery coursers, peerless Krishna leads them well!\n\nKrishna holds the reins for Arjun, Krishna speeds his battle-car,\nDrives the lightning-winged coursers o'er the startled field of war!\n\nSweeps in pride his sounding chariot till it almost seems to fly,\nArjun lords it o'er the battle like the comet in the sky!\n\nGrant me, monarch, mighty Salya drive my swift and warlike steed,\nAnd against the car-borne Arjun, Karna's fiery chariot lead!\n\nSalya too is skilled, like Krishna, with the steed and battle-car,\nEqual thus I meet my foeman in this last and fatal war!\"\n\nSpake Duryodhan; warlike Salya mounted Karna's sounding car,\nKarna sought for mighty Arjun in the serried ranks of war:\n\n\"Hundred milch-kine Karna offers, costly garment, yellow gold,\nUnto him who in this battle points to me my foeman bold!\n\nCars and steeds and fertile acres, peaceful hamlets rich and fair,\nDark-eyed damsels lotus-bosomed, crowned with glossy raven hair,\n\nThese are his who points to Karna, Arjun hiding from this war,\nArjun's snowy steeds and banner and his swift and thund'ring car!\"\n\nKarna spake, but long and loudly laughed the king of Madra's land,\nAs he reined the fiery coursers with his strong and skilful hand,\n\n\"Of rewards and gifts,\" he uttered, \"little need is there, I ween,\nArjun is not wont to tarry from the battle's glorious scene!\n\nSoon will Arjun's snowy coursers shake the battle's startled field,\nHelmed Arjun like a comet gleam with bow and sword and shield!\n\nAs the forest-ranging tiger springs upon his fated prey,\nAs the horned bull, infuriate, doth the weakling cattle slay,\n\nAs the fierce and lordly lion smites the timid jungle-deer,\nArjun soon shall spring upon thee, for he knows nor dread nor fear,\n\nSave thee then, O mighty archer! while I drive my sounding car,\nPandu's son hath met no equal in the valiant art of war!\"\n\nDarkly frowned the angry Karna, Salya held the loosened rein,\nDashing through the hostile forces then the warrior sped amain,\n\nThrough the serried ranks of battle Karna drove in furious mood,\nFacing him in royal splendour good Yudhishthir fearless stood!\n\nSurging ranks of brave Nishadas closed between and fought in vain,\nProud Panchalas, stout and faithful, vainly strove among the slain,\n\nOnward came the fiery Karna like the ocean's heaving swell,\nWith the sweeping wrath of tempest on the good Yudhishthir fell!\n\nWrathful then the son of Pandu marked his noblest chieftains dead,\nAnd in words of scornful anger thus to archer Karna said:\n\n\"Hast thou, Karna, vowed the slaughter of my younger Arjun brave?\nWilt thou do Duryodhan's mandate, proud Duryodhan's willing slave?\n\nUnfulfilled thy vow remaineth, for the righteous gods ordain,\nBy Yudhishthir's hand thou fallest, go and slumber with the slain!\"\n\nFiercely drew his bow Yudhishthir, fiercely was the arrow driven,\nRocky cliff or solid mountain might the shaft have pierced and riven!\n\nLightning-like it came on Karna, struck and pierced him on the left,\nAnd the warrior fell and fainted as of life and sense bereft!\n\nSoon he rose; the cloud of anger darkened o'er his livid face,\nAnd he drew his godlike weapon with a more than human grace!\n\nArrows keen and dark as midnight, gleaming in their lightning flight,\nStruck Yudhishthir's royal armour with a fierce resistless might!\n\nClanking fell the shattered armour from his person fair and pale,\nAs from sun's meridian splendour clouds are drifted by the gale!\n\nArmourless but bright and radiant brave Yudhishthir waged the fight,\nBright as sky with stars bespangled on a clear and cloudless night!\n\nAnd he threw his pointed lances like the summer's bursting flood,\nOnce again Yudhishthir's weapons drank his fiery foeman's blood!\n\nPale with anguish, wrathful Karna fiercely turned the tide of war,\nCut Yudhishthir's royal standard, crashed his sumptuous battle-car,\n\nAnd he urged his gallant coursers till his chariot bounding flew,\nAnd with more than godlike prowess then his famed _vijaya_ drew!\n\nFaint Yudhishthir sorely bleeding waged no more the fatal fight,\nCarless, steedless, void of armour, sought his safety in his flight!\n\n\"Speed, thou timid man of penance!\" proud insulting Karna said,\n\"Famed for virtue not for valour! blood of thine I will not shed!\n\nSpeed and chant thy wonted _mantra_, do the rites that sages know,\nBid the helmed warrior Arjun come and meet his warlike foe!\"\n\nTo his tent retired Yudhishthir in his wrath and in his shame,\nSpake to Arjun who from battle to his angry elder came:\n\n\"Hast thou yet, O tardy Arjun! base, insulting Karna slain,\nKarna dealing dire destruction on this battle's reddened plain?\n\nLike his teacher Par'su-Rama dyes in purple blood his course,\nLike a snake of deathful poison Karna guards the Kuru force!\n\nKarna smote my chariot-driver and my standard rent in twain,\nShattered car and lifeless horses strew the red inglorious plain,\n\nScarce with life in speechless anguish from the battle-field I fled,\nScorn of foes and shame of kinsmen! Warrior's fame and honour dead!\n\nTen long years and three Yudhishthir joy nor peace nor rest hath seen,\nAnd while Karna lives and glories, all our insults still are green,\n\nHast thou, Arjun, slain that chieftain as in swelling pride he stood,\nHast thou wiped our wrongs and insults in that chariot-driver's blood?\"\n\n\"At a distance,\" Krishna answered, \"fiery Arjun fought his way,\nNow he meets the archer Karna, and he vows his death to-day.\"\n\nAnger lit Yudhishthir's forehead, and a tremor shook his frame,\nAs he spake to silent Arjun words of insult and of shame:\n\n\"Wherefore like a painted warrior doth the helmed Arjun stand,\nWherefore useless lies _gandiva_ in his weak and nerveless hand,\n\nWherefore hangs yon mighty sabre from his belt of silk and gold,\nWherefore doth the peerless Krishna drive his coursers fleet and bold,\n\nIf afar from war's arena timid Arjun seeks to hide,\nIf he shuns the mighty Karna battling in unconquered pride?\n\nArjun! yield thy famed _gandiva_ unto worthier hands than thine,\nOn some braver, truer warrior let thy mighty standard shine,\n\nYield thy helmet and thy armour, yield thy gleaming sword and shield,\nHide thee from this deathful battle, matchless Karna rules the field!\"\n\nSparkled Arjun's eye in anger with a red and livid flame,\nAnd the tempest of his passion shook his more than mortal frame,\n\nHeedless, on the sword-hilt Arjun placed his swift and trembling hand,\nHeedless, with a warrior's instinct drew the dark and glistening brand!\n\nSacred blood of king and elder would have stained his trenchant steel,\nBut the wise and noble Krishna strove the fatal feud to heal:\n\n\"Not before thy elder, Arjun, but in yonder purple field,\n'Gainst thy rival and thy foeman use thy warlike sword and shield!\n\nRender honour to thy elder, quench thy hasty, impious wrath,\nSin not 'gainst holy _sastra_, leave not virtue's sacred path!\n\nBow before thy virtuous elder as before the gods in heaven,\nSheathe thy sword and quell thy passion, be thy hasty sin forgiven!\"\n\nDuteous Arjun silent listened and obeyed the mandate high,\nTears of manly sorrow trickled from his soft and altered eye,\n\nDear in joy and dear in suffering, calm his righteous elder stood,\nDear in Indra-prastha's mansions, dearer in the jungle wood!\n\nArjun sheathed his flashing sabre, joined his hands and hung his head,\nFixed his eye on good Yudhishthir and in humble accents said:\n\n\"Pardon, great and saintly monarch, vassal's disrespectful word,\nPardon, elder, if a younger heedless drew his sinful sword!\n\nBut thy hest to yield my weapon stung my soul to bitter strife,\nDearer is the bow _gandiva_ unto Arjun than his life!\n\nPardon if the blood of anger mantled o'er this rugged brow,\nPardon if I drew my sabre 'gainst my duty and my vow!\n\nFor that hasty act repenting Arjun bows unto thy feet,\nGrant me, gentle king and elder, brother's love, forgiveness sweet!\"\n\nFrom Yudhishthir's altered eyelids gentle tears of sorrow start,\nAnd he lifts his younger brother to his ever-loving heart:\n\n\"Arjun, I have wronged thee brother, and no fault or sin is thine,\nHasty words of thoughtless anger 'scaped these sinful lips of mine!\n\nBitter was my shame and anguish when from Karna's car I fled,\nRedder than my bleeding bosom warrior's fame and honour bled!\n\nHasty words I uttered, Arjun, by my pain and anguish driven,\nWipe them with a brother's kindness, be thy elder's sin forgiven!\"\n\nStronger by his elder's blessing, Arjun mounts the battle-car,\nKrishna drives the milk-white coursers to the thickening ranks of war!\n\nOnward came the fiery Karna with his chiefs and armed men,\nSalya urged his flying coursers with the whip and loosened rein,\n\nOften met and often parted, life-long rivals in their fame,\nNot to part again, the heroes, each unto the other came,\n\nNot to part until a chieftain by the other chief was slain,\nArjun dead or lifeless Karna, pressed the Kuru-kshetra plain!\n\nLong they strove, but neither archer could his gallant foeman beat,\nThough like surging ocean billows did the angry warriors meet,\n\nArjun's arrows fell on Karna like the summer's angry flood,\nKarna's shafts like hissing serpents drank the valiant Arjun's blood!\n\nFierce and quick from his _gandiva_ angry accents Arjun woke,\nTill the bow-string, strained and heated, was by sudden impulse broke!\n\n\"Hold,\" cried Arjun to his rival, \"mind the honoured rules of war,\nWarriors strike not helpless foemen thus disabled on the car,\n\nHold, brave Karna, until Arjun mends his over-strained bow,\nArjun then will crave for mercy nor from god nor mortal foe!\"\n\nVain he spake, for wild with anger heedless Karna, fiercely lowered,\nThick and fast on bowless Arjun countless arrows darkly showered,\n\nLike the cobra, dark and hissing, Karna's gleaming lightning dart,\nStruck the helpless archer Arjun on his broad and bleeding heart!\n\nFurious like a wounded tiger quivering in the darksome wood,\nWith his mended warlike weapon now the angry Arjun stood,\n\nBlazing with a mighty radiance like a flame in summer night,\nFierce he fell on archer Karna with his more than mortal might!\n\nLittle recked the dauntless Karna if his foe in anger rose,\nKarna feared not face of mortal, dreaded not immortal foes,\n\nNor with all his wrath and valour Arjun conquered him in war,\nTill within the soft earth sinking stuck the wheel of Karna's car!\n\nStood unmoved the tilted chariot, vainly wrathful Salya strove,\nUrging still the struggling coursers Karna's heavy car to move,\n\nVainly too the gallant Karna leaped upon the humid soil,\nSought to lift the sunken axle with a hard unwonted toil,\n\n\"Hold,\" he cried to noble Arjun, \"wage no false and impious war\nOn a foeman, helpless, carless,--thou upon thy lofty car.\"\n\nLoudly laughed the helmed Arjun, answer nor rejoinder gave,\nUnto Karna pleading virtue Krishna answered calm and grave:\n\n\"Didst thou seek the path of virtue, mighty Karna, archer bold,\nWhen Sakuni robbed Yudhishthir of his empire and his gold?\n\nDidst thou tread the path of honour on Yudhishthir's fatal fall,\nHeaping insults on Draupadi in Hastina's council hall?\n\nDidst thou then fulfil thy duty when, Yudhishthir's exile crost,\nKrishna asked in right and justice for Yudhishthir's empire lost?\n\nDidst thou fight a holy battle when with six marauders skilled,\nKarna hunted Abhimanyu and the youthful hero killed?\n\nSpeak not then of rules of honour, blackened in your sins you die,\nDeath is come in shape of Arjun, Karna's fatal hour is nigh!\"\n\nStung to fury and to madness, faint but frantic Karna fought,\nReckless, ruthless, and relentless, valiant Arjun's life he sought,\n\nSent his last resistless arrow on his foeman's mighty chest,\nArjun felt a shock of thunder on his broad and mailed breast!\n\nFainting fell the bleeding Arjun, darkness dimmed his manly eye,\nPale and breathless watched his warriors, anxious watched the gods in sky!\n\nThen it passed, and helmed Arjun rose like newly lighted fire,\nAbhimanyu's sad remembrance kindled fresh a father's ire!\n\nAnd he drew his bow _gandiva_, aimed his dart with stifled breath,\nVengeance for his murdered hero winged the fatal dart of death!\n\nLike the fiery bolt of lightning Arjun's lurid arrow sped,\nLike the red and flaming meteor Karna fell among the dead!\n\nIII\n\nFall of Salya\n\nDarkly closed the shades of midnight, Karna still and lifeless lay,\nGhast and pale o'er slaughtered thousands fell the morrow's sickly ray,\n\nBowman brave and proud preceptor, Kripa to Duryodhan said,\nTear bedimmed the warrior's eyelids and his manly bosom bled:\n\n\"Leaderless the Kuru's forces, by a dire misfortune crost,\nLike the moonless shades of midnight in their utter darkness lost!\n\nLike a summer-dried river, weary waste of arid sand,\nLost its pride of fresh'ning waters sweeping o'er the grateful land!\n\nAs a spark of fire consumeth summer's parched and sapless wood,\nKuru's lordless, lifeless forces shall be angry Arjun's food!\n\nBhima too will seek fulfilment of the dreadful vow he made,\nBrave Satyaki wreak his vengeance for his sons untimely slayed!\n\nBid this battle cease, Duryodhan, pale and fitful is thy star,\nBlood enough of friendly nations soaks this crimson field of war!\n\nBid them live,--the few survivors of a vast and countless host,\nLet thy few remaining brothers live,--for many are the lost!\n\nKindly heart hath good Yudhishthir, still he seeks for rightful peace,\nRender back his ancient kingdom, bid this war of kinsmen cease!\"\n\n\"Kripa,\" so Duryodhan answered, \"in this sad and fatal strife,\nEver foremost of our warriors, ever careless of thy life,\n\nEver in the council chamber thou hast words of wisdom said,\nNeedless war and dire destruction by thy peaceful counsel stayed,\n\nEvery word that 'scapes thee, Kripa, is a word of truth and weight,\nNathless thy advice for concord, wise preceptor, comes too late!\n\nHope not that the good Yudhishthir will again our friendship own,\nCheated once by deep Sakuni of his kingdom and his throne,\n\nRugged Bhima will not palter, fatal is the vow he made,\nVengeful Arjun will not pardon gallant Abhimanyu dead!\n\nFair Draupadi doth her penance, so our ancient matrons say,\nIn our blood to wash her insult and her proud insulters slay,\n\nFair Subhadra morn and evening weeps her dear departed son,\nFeeds Draupadi's deathless anger for the hero dead and gone,\n\nDeeply in their bosoms rankle wrongs and insults we have given,\nBlood alone can wash it, Kripa, such the cruel will of Heaven!\n\nAnd the hour for peace is over, for our best sleep on the plain,\nBrothers, kinsmen, friends, and elders slumber with the countless slain,\n\nShall Duryodhan like a recreant now avoid the deathful strife,\nAfter all his bravest warriors have in war surrendered life?\n\nShall he, sending them to slaughter, now survive and learn to flee,\nShall he, ruler over monarchs, learn to bend the servile knee?\n\nProud Duryodhan sues no favour even with his dying breath,\nUnsubdued and still unconquered, changeless even unto death!\n\nSalya, valiant king of Madra, leads our armed hosts to-day,\nOr to perish or to conquer, gallant Kripa, lead the way!\"\n\nMeanwhile round the brave Yudhishthir calmly stood the Pandav force,\nAs the final day of battle now began its fatal course,\n\n\"Brothers, kinsmen, hero-warriors,\" so the good Yudhishthir said,\n\"Ye have done your share in battle, witness countless foemen dead,\n\nSad Yudhishthir is your eldest, let him end this fatal strife,\nSlay the last of Kuru chieftains or surrender throne and life!\n\nBold Satyaki, ever faithful, with his arms protects my right,\nDrupad's son with watchful valour guards my left with wonted might,\n\nIn the front doth Bhima battle, careful Arjun guards the rear,\nI will lead the battle's centre which shall know nor flight nor fear!\"\n\nTruly on that fatal morning brave Yudhishthir kept his word,\nLong and fiercely waged the combat with fair Madra's valiant lord,\n\nThick and fast the arrows whistled and the lances pointed well,\nCrashing with the sound of thunder Salya's mighty standard fell!\n\nRescued by the son of Drona, Salya rushed again to war,\nSlew the noble milk-white coursers of Yudhishthir's royal car,\n\nAnd as springs the hungry lion on the spotted jungle-deer,\nSalya rushed upon Yudhishthir reckless and unknown to fear!\n\nBrave Yudhishthir marked him coming and he hurled his fatal dart,\nLike the fatal curse of Brahman sank the weapon in his heart,\n\nBlood suffused his eye and nostril, quivered still his feeble hand,\nLike a cliff by thunder riven Salya fell and shook the land!\n\nEnded was the fatal battle, for the _mlechcha_ king was slain,\nPierced by angry Sahadeva false Sakuni pressed the plain,\n\nAll the brothers of Duryodhan tiger-waisted Bhima slew,\nProud Duryodhan pale and panting from the field of battle flew!\n\nIV\n\nNight of Slaughter\n\nFar from battle's toil and slaughter, by a dark and limpid lake,\nSad and slow and faint Duryodhan did his humble shelter take,\n\nBut the valiant sons of Pandu, with the hunter's watchful care,\nThither tracked their fallen foeman like a wild beast in its lair!\n\n\"Gods be witness,\" said Duryodhan, flaming in his shame and wrath,\n\"Boy to manhood ever hating we have crossed each other's path,\n\nNow we meet to part no longer, proud Duryodhan fights you all,\nPerish he, or sons of Pandu, may this evening see your fall!\"\n\nBhima answered: \"For the insults long endured but not forgiven,\nMe alone you fight, Duryodhan, witness righteous gods in heaven!\n\nCall to mind the dark destruction planned of old in fiendish ire,\nIn the halls of Varnavata to consume us in the fire!\n\nCall to mind the scheme deceitful, deep Sakuni's dark device,\nCheating us of fame and empire by the trick of loaded dice!\n\nCall to mind that coward insult and the outrage foul and keen,\nFlung on Drupad's saintly daughter and our noble spotless queen!\n\nCall to mind the stainless Bhishma for thy sins and folly slain,\nLifeless proud preceptor Drona, Karna lifeless on the plain!\n\nPerish in thy sins, Duryodhan, perish too thy hated name,\nAnd thy dark life crime-polluted ends, Duryodhan, in thy shame!\"\n\nLike two bulls that fight in fury, blind with wounds and oozing blood,\nLike two wild and warring tuskers shaking all the echoing wood,\n\nLike the thunder-wielding INDRA, mighty YAMA dark and dread,\nDauntless Bhima and Duryodhan fiercely strove and fought and bled!\n\nSparks of fire shot from their maces and their faces ran with blood,\nNeither won and neither yielded, matched in strength the rivals stood,\n\nThen his vow remembered Bhima, and he raised his weapon high,\nWith a foul attack but fatal Bhima broke Duryodhan's thigh!\n\nThrough the sky a voice resounded as the great Duryodhan fell,\nAnd the earth the voice re-echoed o'er her distant hill and dale.\n\nBeasts and birds in consternation flew o'er land and azure sky,\nMen below and heavenly _Siddhas_ trembled at the fatal cry!\n\nDarkness fell upon the battle, proud Duryodhan dying lay,\nBut the slaughter of the combat closed not with the closing day,\n\nAncient feud and hatred linger after battle's sweeping flood,\nAnd the father's deathless anger courseth in the children's blood,\n\nDrona slept and gallant Drupad, for their earthly task was done,\nVengeance fired the son of Drona 'gainst the royal Drupad's son!\n\nSable shadows of the midnight fell o'er battle's silent plain,\nFaintly shone the fitful planets on the dying and the slain,\n\nAnd the vengeful son of Drona, fired by omens dark and dread,\nStole into the tents of foemen with a soft and noiseless tread!\n\nDhrista-dyumna and Sikhandin, princes of Panchala's land,\nFell beneath the proud avenger Aswa-thaman's reeking hand,\n\nAy! where Drupad's sleeping grandsons, fair Draupadi's children lay,\nStole the cruel arm of vengeance, smothered them ere dawn of day!\n\nDone the ghastly work of slaughter, Aswa-thaman bent his way\nWhere beside the limpid waters lone Duryodhan dying lay,\n\nAnd Duryodhan blessed the hero with his feeble fleeting breath,\nJoy of vengeance cheered his bosom and he died a happy death!\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XI\n\nSRADDHA\n\n(Funeral Rites)\n\n\nThe death of Duryodhan concludes the war, and it is followed by\nthe lament of women and the funerals of the deceased warriors.\nThe passages translated in this Book form Section x., portions of\nSections xvi., xvii., and xxvi., and the whole of Section xxvii.\nof Book xi. of the original text.\n\nI\n\nKuru Women visit the Battle-field\n\nSpake the ancient Dhrita-rashtra, father of a hundred sons,\nSonless now and sorrow-stricken, dark his ebbing life-tide runs!\n\n\"Gods fulfil my life's last wishes! Henchmen, yoke my royal car,\nDhrita-rashtra meets his princes in the silent field of war,\n\nSpeed unto the Queen Gandhari, to the dames of Kuru's house,\nTo each dear departed warrior wends his fair and faithful spouse!\"\n\nQueen Gandhari sorrow-laden with the ancient Pritha came,\nAnd each weeping widowed princess and each wailing childless dame,\n\nAnd they saw the hoary monarch, father of a perished race,\nFresh and loud awoke their sorrow, welling tears suffused their face,\n\nGood Vidura ever gentle whispered comfort unto all,\nPlaced the dames within their chariots, left Hastina's palace hall!\n\nLoud the wail of woe and sorrow rose from every Kuru house,\nChildren wept beside their mothers for each widowed royal spouse,\n\nVeiled dwellers of the palace, scarce the gods their face had seen,\nHeedless now through mart and city sped each widowed childless queen,\n\nFrom their royal brow and bosom gem and jewel cast aside,\nLoose their robes and loose their tresses, quenched their haughty queenly\n  pride!\n\nSo when falls the antlered monarch, struck by woe and sudden fear\nIssuing from their snowy mountains listless stray the dappled deer,\n\nSo upon the broad arena milk-white fillies brave the sun,\nWildly toss their flowing tresses and in sad disorder run!\n\nClinging to her weeping sister wept each dame in cureless pain,\nFor the lord, the son or father in the deathful battle slain,\n\nWept and smote her throbbing bosom and in bitter anguish wailed,\nTill her senses reeled in sorrow, till her woman's reason failed!\n\nVeiled queens and bashful maidens, erst they shunned the public eye,\nBlush nor shame suffused their faces as they passed the city by,\n\nGentle-bosomed, kindly hearted, erst they wiped each other's eye,\nNow by common sorrow laden none for sister heaved a sigh!\n\nWith this troop of wailing women, deep in woe, disconsolate,\nSlow the monarch of the Kurus passed Hastina's outer gate,\n\nMen from stall and loom and anvil, men of every guild and trade,\nLeft the city with the monarch, through the open country strayed,\n\nAnd a universal sorrow filled the air and answering sky,\nAs when ends the mortal's _Yuga_ and the end of world is nigh!\n\nII\n\nGandhari's Lament for the Slain\n\nStainless Queen and stainless woman, ever righteous ever good,\nStately in her mighty sorrow on the field Gandhari stood!\n\nStrewn with skulls and clotted tresses, darkened by the stream of gore,\nWith the limbs of countless warriors was the red field covered o'er,\n\nElephants and steeds of battle, car-borne chiefs untimely slain,\nHeadless trunks and heads dissevered fill the red and ghastly plain!\n\nAnd the long-drawn howl of jackals o'er the scene of carnage rings,\nAnd the vulture and the raven flap their dark and loathsome wings,\n\nFeasting on the blood of warriors foul _pisachas_ fill the air,\nViewless forms of hungry _rakshas_ limb from limb the corpses tear!\n\nThrough this scene of death and carnage was the ancient monarch led,\nKuru dames with faltering footsteps stepped amidst the countless dead,\n\nAnd a piercing wail of anguish burst upon the echoing plain,\nAs they saw their sons or fathers, brothers, lords, amidst the slain,\n\nAs they saw the wolves of jungle feed upon the destined prey,\nDarksome wanderers of the midnight prowling in the light of day!\n\nShriek of pain and wail of anguish o'er the ghastly field resound,\nAnd their feeble footsteps falter and they sink upon the ground,\n\nSense and life desert the mourners as they faint in common grief,\nDeath-like swoon succeeding sorrow yields a moment's short relief!\n\nThen a mighty sigh of anguish from Gandhari's bosom broke,\nGazing on her anguished daughters unto Krishna thus she spoke:\n\n\"Mark my unconsoled daughters, widowed queens of Kuru's house,\nWailing for their dear departed, like the osprey for her spouse!\n\nHow each cold and fading feature wakes in them a woman's love,\nHow amidst the lifeless warriors still with restless steps they rove,\n\nMothers hug their slaughtered children all unconscious in their sleep,\nWidows bend upon their husbands and in ceaseless sorrow weep!\n\nMighty Bhishma, hath he fallen? quenched is archer Karna's pride?\nDrupad monarch of Panchala sleeps by foeman Drona's side?\n\nShining mail and costly jewels, royal bangles strew the plain,\nGolden garlands rich and burnished deck the chiefs untimely slain,\n\nLances hurled by stalwart fighters, clubs of mighty wrestlers killed,\nSwords and bows of ample measure, quivers still with arrows filled!\n\nMark the unforgotten heroes, jungle prowlers 'mid them stray,\nOn their brow and mailed bosoms heedless perch the birds of prey!\n\nMark they great unconquered heroes famed on earth from west to east,\n_Kankas_ perch upon their foreheads, hungry wolves upon them feast!\n\nMark the kings, on softest cushion scarce the needed rest they found,\nNow they lie in peaceful slumber on the hard and reddened ground!\n\nMark the youths who morn and evening listed to the minstrel's song,\nIn their ear the loathsome jackal doth his doleful wail prolong!\n\nSee the chieftains with their maces and their swords of trusty steel,\nStill they grasp their tried weapons,--do they still the life-pulse feel?\"\n\nIII\n\nGandhari's Lament for Duryodhan\n\nThus to Krishna, Queen Gandhari strove her woeful thoughts to tell,\nWhen alas! her wandering vision on her son Duryodhan fell,\n\nSudden anguish smote her bosom and her senses seemed to stray,\nLike a tree by tempest shaken senseless on the earth she lay!\n\nOnce again she waked in sorrow, once again she cast her eye\nWhere her son in blood empurpled slept beneath the open sky,\n\nAnd she clasped her dear Duryodhan, held him close unto her breast,\nSobs convulsive shook her bosom as the lifeless form she prest,\n\nAnd her tears like rains of summer fell and washed his noble head,\nDecked with garlands still untarnished, graced with _nishkas_ bright\n  and red!\n\n\"'Mother!' said my dear Duryodhan when he went unto the war,\n'Wish me joy and wish me triumph as I mount the battle-car!'\n\n'Son!' I said to dear Duryodhan, 'Heaven avert a cruel fate,\n_Yato dharma stato jayah!_ Triumph doth on Virtue wait!'\n\nBut he set his heart on battle, by his valour wiped his sins,\nNow he dwells in realms celestial which the faithful warrior wins!\n\nAnd I weep not for Duryodhan, like a prince he fought and fell,\nBut my sorrow-stricken husband, who can his misfortunes tell?\n\nAy! my son was brave and princely, all resistless in the war,\nNow he sleeps the sleep of warriors, sunk in gloom his glorious star!\n\nAy! My son mid crowned monarchs held the first and foremost way,\nNow he rests upon the red earth, quenched his bright effulgent ray!\n\nAy! my son the best of heroes, he hath won the warrior's sky,\nKshatras nobly conquer, Krishna, when in war they nobly die!\n\nHark the loathsome cry of jackals, how the wolves their vigils keep,\nMaidens rich in song and beauty erst were wont to watch his sleep!\n\nHark the foul and blood-beaked vultures flap their wings upon the dead,\nMaidens waved their feathery _pankhas_ round Duryodhan's royal bed!\n\nPeerless bowman, mighty monarch! nations still his hests obeyed,\nAs a lion slays a tiger, Bhima hath Duryodhan slayed!\n\nThirteen years o'er Kuru's empire proud Duryodhan held his sway,\nRuled Hastina's ancient city where fair Ganga's waters stray!\n\nI have seen his regal splendour with these ancient eyes of mine,\nElephants and battle-chariots, steeds of war and herds of kine!\n\nKuru owns another master and Duryodhan's day is fled,\nAnd I live to be a witness! Krishna, O that I were dead!\n\nMark Duryodhan's noble widow, mother proud of Lakshman bold,\nQueenly in her youth and beauty, like an altar of bright gold!\n\nTorn from husband's sweet embraces, from her son's entwining arms,\nDoomed to life-long woe and anguish in her youth and in her charms!\n\nRend my hard and stony bosom crushed beneath this cruel pain,\nShould Gandhari live to witness noble son and grandson slain?\n\nMark again Duryodhan's widow, how she hugs his gory head,\nHow with gentle hands and tender softly holds him on his bed!\n\nHow from dear departed husband turns she to her dearer son,\nAnd the tear-drops of the mother choke the widow's bitter groan!\n\nLike the fibre of the lotus tender-golden is her frame,\nO my lotus! O my daughter! Bharat's pride and Kuru's fame!\n\nIf the truth resides in _Vedas_, brave Duryodhan dwells above,\nWherefore linger we in sadness severed from his cherished love?\n\nIf the truth resides in _Sastra_, dwells in sky my hero son,\nFor Gandhari and her daughter now their earthly task is done!\"\n\nIV\n\nFuneral Rite\n\nVictor of a deathful battle, sad Yudhishthir viewed the plain,\nFriends and kinsmen, kings and chieftains, countless troops untimely slain,\n\nAnd he spake to wise Sudharman, pious priest of Kuru's race,\nUnto Sanjay, unto Dhaumya, to Vidura full of grace,\n\nSpake unto the brave Yuyutsu, Kuru's last surviving chief,\nSpake to faithful Indrasena, and to warriors sunk in grief:\n\n\"Pious rites are due to foemen and to friends and kinsmen slain,\nNone shall lack a fitting funeral, none shall perish on the plain.\"\n\nWise Vidura and his comrades sped on sacred duty bound,\nSandalwood and scented aloes, oil and _ghee_ and perfumes found,\n\nSilken robes of costly splendour, fabrics by the artist wove,\nDry wood from the thorny jungle, perfume from the scented grove,\n\nShattered cars and splintered lances, hewed and ready for the fire,\nPiled and ranged in perfect order into many a funeral pyre.\n\nKings and princes, noble warriors, were in rank and order laid,\nAnd with streams of melted butter were the rich libations made,\n\nBlazed the fire with wondrous radiance by the rich libations fed,\nSanctifying and consuming mortal remnants of the dead.\n\nBrave Duryodhan and his brothers, Salya of the mighty car,\nBhurisravas king of nations, Jayadratha famed in war,\n\nAbhimanyu son of Arjun, Lakshman proud Duryodhan's son,\nSomadatta and the Srinjays famed for deeds of valour done,\n\nMatsya's monarch proud Virata, Drupad fair Panchala's king,\nAnd his sons, Panchala's princes, whose great deeds the minstrels sing,\n\nCultured monarch of Kosala and Gandhara's wily lord,\nKarna, proud and peerless archer, matchless with his flaming sword,\n\nBhagadatta eastern monarch, all resistless in his car,\nGhatotkacha son of Bhima, Alambusha famed in war,\n\nAnd a hundred other monarchs all received the pious rite,\nTill the radiance of the fire-light chased the shadows of the night!\n\n_Pitri-medha_, due to fathers, was performed with pious care,\nHymns and wails and lamentations mingled in the midnight air,\n\nSacred songs of _rik_ and _saman_ rose with women's piercing wail,\nAnd the creatures of the wide earth heard the sound subdued and pale!\n\nSmokeless and with radiant lustre shone each red and lighted pyre,\nLike the planets of the bright sky throbbing with celestial fire!\n\nCountless myriads, nameless, friendless, from each court and camp afar,\nFrom the east and west collected, fell in Kuru-Kshetra's war,\n\nThousand fires for them were lighted, they received the pious rite,\nSuch was good Yudhishthir's mandate, such was wise Vidura's might,\n\nAll the dead were burned to ashes and the sacred rite was o'er,\nDhrita-rashtra and Yudhishthir slowly walked to Ganga's shore!\n\nV\n\nOblation to Karna\n\nSacred Ganga, ample-bosomed, sweeps along in regal pride,\nRolling down her limpid waters through high banks on either side,\n\nKuru dames and weeping widows thither in their anguish came\nDue and holy rites to render to departed chiefs of fame,\n\nCasting forth their jewelled girdles, gems and scarfs belaced with gold,\nGave oblations of the water to each hero true and bold,\n\nUnto fathers, unto husbands, unto sons in battle slayed,\nOfferings of the sacred water sorrowing wives and mothers made.\n\nAnd so great the host of mourners wending to perform the rite,\nThat their footsteps made a pathway in the sad and sacred site,\n\nAnd the shelving banks of Ganga peopled by the sorrowing train,\nWide-expanding, vast and sealike, formed a scene of woe and pain!\n\nBut a wave of keener sorrow swept o'er Pritha's heaving breast,\nAs unto her weeping children thus her secret she expressed:\n\n_\"He, my sons, the peerless bowman, mighty in his battle-car,\nHe who bore the stamp of hero, slain by Arjun in the war,_\n\n_He whom as the son of Radha, chariot-driver, ye have thought,\nHe who shone with SURYA'S lustre as his countless foes he fought,_\n\n_He who faced your stoutest warriors and in battle never failed,\nHe who led the Kuru forces and in danger never quailed,_\n\n_He who knew no peer in prowess, owned in war no haughtier name,\nHe who yielded life, not honour, and by death hath conquered fame,_\n\n_He, in truth who never faltered, never left his vow undone,\nOffer unto him oblation, Karna was my eldest son!_\n\n_Karna was your honoured elder, and the Sun inspired his birth,\nKarna in his rings and armour Sun-like trod the spacious earth!\"_\n\nPritha spake, and terror-stricken Pandav brothers groaned in pain,\nAnd they wept in woe and anguish for the brother they had slain.\n\nHissing forth his sigh of sorrow like a trodden, hissing snake,\nSad Yudhishthir to his mother thus his inward feelings spake:\n\n\"Didst thou, mother, bear the hero fathomless like ocean dread,\nWhose unfailing glistening arrows like its countless billows sped?\n\nDidst thou bear that peerless archer, all-resistless in his car,\nSweeping with the roar of ocean through the shattered ranks of war?\n\nDidst thou bear the mighty hero, mortal man of heavenly birth,\nCrushing 'neath his arm of valour all his foemen on the earth?\n\nDidst thou hide the birth and lineage of that chief of deathful ire,\nAs a man in folds of garments seeks to hide the flaming fire?\n\nArjun, wielder of _gandiva_, was for us no truer stay\nThan was Karna for the Kurus in the battle's dread array!\n\nMonarchs matched not Karna's glory nor his deeds of valour done,\nMidst the mighty car-borne warriors mightiest warrior Karna shone!\n\nWas he then our eldest brother we have in the battle slain,\nAnd our nearest dearest elder fell upon the gory plain?\n\nNot the death of Abhimanyu from the fair Subhadra torn,\nNot the slaughter of the princes by the proud Draupadi borne,\n\nNot the fall of Kuru warriors, nor Panchala's mighty host,\nLike thy death afflicts my bosom, noble Karna! loved and lost!\n\nMonarch's empire, victor's glory, all the treasures earth can yield,\nRighteous bliss and heavenly gladness, harvest of the _swarga's_ field,\n\nAll that wish can shape and utter, all that nourish hope and pride,\nAll were ours, O noble Karna! with thee by thy brother's side,\n\nAnd this carnage of the Kurus these sad eyes had never seen,\nPeace had graced our blessed empire, happy would the earth have been!\"\n\nLong bewailed the sad Yudhishthir for his elder loved and dead,\nAnd oblation of the water to the noble Karna made,\n\nAnd the royal dames of Kuru viewed the sight with freshening pain,\nWept to see the good Yudhishthir offering to his brother slain,\n\nAnd the widowed queen of Karna with the women of his house\nGave oblations to her hero, wept her loved and slaughtered spouse!\n\nDone the rites to the departed, done oblations to the dead,\nSlowly then the sad survivors on the river's margin spread,\n\nFar along the shore and sandbank of the sacred sealike stream\nMaid and matron laved their bodies 'neath the morning's holy beam,\n\nAnd ablutions done, the Kurus slow and sad and cheerless part,\nWend their way to far Hastina with a void and vacant heart.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK XII\n\nASWA-MEDHA\n\n(Sacrifice of the Horse)\n\n\nThe real Epic ends with the war and the funerals of the deceased\nwarriors. Much of what follows in the original Sanscrit poem is\neither episodical or comparatively recent interpolation. The great\nand venerable warrior Bhishma, still lying on his death bed,\ndiscourses for the instruction of the newly crowned Yudhishthir on\nvarious subjects like the Duties of Kings, the Duties of the Four\nCastes, and the Four Stages of Life. He repeats the discourses of\nother saints, of Bhrigu and Bharadwaja, of Manu and Brihaspati, of\nVyasa and Suka, of Yajnavalkya and Janaka, of Narada and Narayana.\nHe explains _Sankhya_ philosophy and _Yoga_ philosophy, and lays down\nthe laws of Marriage, the laws of Succession, the rules of Gifts,\nand the rules of Funeral Rites. He preaches the cult of Krishna, and\nnarrates endless legends, tales, traditions, and myths about sages\nand saints, gods and mortal kings. All this is told in two Books\ncontaining about twenty-two thousand couplets, and forming nearly\none-fourth of the entire Sanscrit Epic!\n\nThe reason of adding all this episodical and comparatively recent\nmatter to the ancient Epic is not far to seek. The Epic became\nmore popular with the nation at large than dry codes of law and\nphilosophy, and generations of Brahmanical writers laboured therefore\nto insert in the Epic itself their rules of caste and moral conduct,\ntheir laws and philosophy. There is no more venerable character in\nthe Epic than Bhishma, and these rules and laws have therefore been\nsupposed to come from his lips on the solemn occasion of his death.\nAs a storehouse of Hindu laws and traditions and moral rules these\nepisodes are invaluable; but they form no part of the real Epic, they\nare not a portion of the leading story of the Epic, and we pass them\nby.\n\nBhishma dies and is cremated; but the endless exposition of laws,\nlegends, and moral rules is not yet over. Krishna himself takes\nup the task in a new Book, and, as he has done once before in the\n_Bhagavat-gita_, he now once more explains to Arjun in the _Anu-gita_\nthe great truths about Soul and Emancipation, Creation and the Wheel\nof Life, True Knowledge and Rites and Penance. The adventures of the\nsage Utanka, whom Krishna meets, then take up a good many pages. All\nthis forms no part of the real Epic, and we pass it by.\n\nYudhishthir has in the meantime been crowned king of the Kurus\nat Hastinapura, and a posthumous child of Abhimanyu is named\nParikshit, and is destined to succeed to the throne of the Kurus. But\nYudhishthir's mind is still troubled with the thoughts of the carnage\nof the war, of which he considers himself guilty, and the great saint\nVyasa advises the performance of the _aswa-medha_, or the Sacrifice\nof the Horse, for the expiation of the sin.\n\nThe Sacrifice of the Horse was an ancient Hindu custom practised by\nkings exercising suzerain powers over surrounding kings. A horse was\nlet free, and was allowed to wander from place to place, accompanied\nby the king's guard. If any neighbouring king ventured to detain the\nanimal, it was a signal for war. If no king ventured to restrain the\nwanderer, it was considered a tacit mark of submission to the owner\nof the animal. And when the horse returned from its peregrinations,\nit was sacrificed with great pomp and splendour at a feast to which\nall neighbouring kings were invited.\n\nYudhishthir allowed the sacrificial horse to wander at will, and\nArjun accompanied it. Wherever the horse was stopped, Arjun fought\nand conquered, and thus proclaimed the supremacy of Yudhishthir over\nall neighbouring potentates. After various wars and adventures in\nvarious regions, Arjun at last returned victorious with the steed\nto Hastinapura, and the sacrifice commenced. The description of the\nsacrifice is somewhat artificial, and concerns itself with rites\nand ceremonious details and gifts to Brahmans, and altogether bears\nunmistakable evidence of the interpolating hand of later priestly\nwriters. Nevertheless we cannot exclude from this translation of\nthe leading incidents of the Epic the last great and crowning act\nof Yudhishthir, now anointed monarch of Kuru land.\n\nThe portion translated in this Book forms Sections lxxxv. And parts\nof Sections lxxxviii. and lxxxix. of Book xiv. of the original\ntext.\n\nI\n\nThe Gathering\n\nVictor of a hundred battles, Arjun bent his homeward way,\nFollowing still the sacred charger free to wander as it may,\n\nStrolling minstrels to Yudhishthir spake of the returning steed,\nSpake of Arjun wending homeward with the victor's crown of meed,\n\nAnd they sang of Arjun's triumph's in Gandhara's distant vale,\nOn the banks of Brahmaputra and in Sindhu's rocky dale.\n\nTwelfth day came of _magha's_ bright moon, and auspicious was the star,\nNigher came the victor Arjun from his conquests near and far,\n\nGood Yudhishthir called his brothers, faithful twins and Bhima true,\nSpake to them in gentle accents, and his words were grave and few:\n\n\"Bhima! Now returneth Arjun with the steed from many a fray,\nSo they tell me, noble brother, who have met him on the way,\n\nAnd the time of _aswa-medha_ day by day is drawing nigh,\n_Magha's_ full moon is approaching, and the winter passeth by,\n\nLet the Brahmans versed in Vedas choose the sacrificial site,\nFor the feast of many nations and performance of the rite.\"\n\nBhima heard of Arjun's coming,--hero with the curly hair,--\nAnd to do Yudhishthir's mandate did with gladsome heart repair,\n\nBrahmans versed in sacrifices, cunning architects of fame,\nBuilders of each various altar with the son of Pritha came,\n\nAnd upon a level greensward measured forth the sacred site,\nLaid it out with halls and pathways for the sacrificial rite.\n\nMansions graced with gem and jewel round the bright arena shone,\nPalaces of golden lustre glinted in the morning sun,\n\nGilt and blazoned with devices lofty columns stood around,\nGraceful arches gold-surmounted spanned the consecrated ground,\n\nGay pavilions rose in beauty round the sacrificial site,\nFor the queens of crowned monarchs wending to the holy rite,\n\nHumbler dwellings rose for Brahmans, priests of learning and of fame,\nCome to view Yudhishthir's _yajna_ and to bless Yudhishthir's name.\n\nMessengers with kindly greetings went to monarchs far-renowned,\nAsked them to Hastina's city, to the consecrated ground,\n\nAnd to please the great Yudhishthir came each king and chieftain bold,\nWith their slaves and dark-eye damsels, arms and horses, gems and gold,\n\nCame and found a royal welcome in pavilions rich and high,\nAnd the sealike voice of nations smote the echoing vault of sky!\n\nWith his greetings doth Yudhishthir, for each chief and king of men,\nCooling drinks and sumptuous viands, beds of regal pride ordain,\n\nStables filled with corn and barley and with milk and luscious cane\nGreet the monarchs' warlike tuskers and the steeds with flowing mane.\n\n_Munis_ from their hermitages to the sacred _yajna_ came,\n_Rishis_ from the grove and forest uttering BRAHMA'S holy name,\n\nFamed _Acharyas_ versed in Vedas to the city held their way,\n_Brahmacharins_ with grass-girdle, chanting _rik_ or _saman_ lay,\n\nWelcomed Kuru's pious monarch, saint and sage and man of grace,\nAnd with gentle condescension showed each priest his fitting place.\n\nSkilled mechanics, cunning artists, raised the structures for the rite,\nAnd with every needful object graced the sacrificial site,\n\nEvery duty thus completed, joyful Yudhishthir's mind,\nAnd he blessed his faithful brothers with an elder's blessings kind.\n\nII\n\nThe Feasting\n\nMen in nations are assembled, hymns are sung by saint and sage,\nAnd in learned disputations keen disputants oft engage,\n\nAnd the concourse of the monarchs view the splendour of the rite,\nLike the glorious sky of INDRA is the sacrificial site!\n\nBright festoons and flaming streamers o'er the golden arches hung,\nGroups of men and gay-dressed women form a bright and joyous throng,\n\nJars of cool and sparkling waters, vessels rich with gold inlaid,\nCostly cups and golden vases Kuru's wealth and pride displayed!\n\nSacrificial stakes of timber with their golden fastenings graced,\nConsecrated by the _mantra_ are in sumptuous order placed,\n\nCountless creatures of the wide earth, fishes from the lake and flood,\nBuffaloes and bulls from pasture, beasts of prey from jungle wood,\n\nBirds and every egg-born creature, insects that from moisture spring,\nDenizens of cave and mountain for the sacrifice they bring!\n\nNoble chiefs and mighty monarchs gaze in wonder on the site,\nFilled with every living object, corn and cattle for the rite,\n\nCurd and cake and sweet confection are for feasting Brahmans spread,\nAnd a hundred thousand people are with sumptuous viands fed!\n\nWith the accents of the rain-cloud drum and trumpet raise their voice,\nSpeak Yudhishthir's noble bounty, bid the sons of men rejoice,\n\nDay by day the holy _yajna_ grows in splendour and in joy,\nRice in hillocks feeds all comers, maid and matron, man and boy,\n\nLakes of curd and lakes of butter speak Yudhishthir's bounteous feast,\nNations of the Jambu-dwipa share it, greatest and the least!\n\nFor a hundred diverse races from a hundred regions came,\nAte of good Yudhishthir's bounty, blessed the good Yudhishthir's name,\n\nAnd a thousand proud attendants, gay with earrings, garland-graced,\nCarried food unto the feeders and the sweet confections placed,\n\nViands fit for crowned monarchs were unto the Brahmans given,\nDrinks of rich and cooling fragrance like the nectar-drink of heaven!\n\nIII\n\nSacrifice of Animals\n\nVictor of a hundred battles, Arjun came with conquering steed,\nVyasa, herald of the Vedas, bade the holy rite proceed:\n\n\"For the day is come, Yudhishthir, let the sacrifice be done,\nLet the priests repeat the mantra golden as the morning sun!\n\nThreefold bounteous be thy presents, and a threefold merit gain,\nFor thy wealth of gold is ample, freely thy _dakshina_ rain!\n\nMay the threefold rich performance purify the darkening stain,\nBlood of warriors and of kinsmen slaughtered on the gory plain!\n\nMay the _yajna's_ pure ablution wash thee of the cruel sin,\nAnd the meed of sacrificers may the good Yudhishthir win!\"\n\nVyasa spake; and good Yudhishthir took the _diksha_ of the rite,\nAnd commenced the _aswa-medha_ gladdening every living wight,\n\nRound the altar's holy lustre moved the priests with sacred awe,\nSwerved not from the rule of duty, failed not in the sacred law.\n\nDone the rite of pure _pravargya_ with the pious hymn and lay,\nTo the task of _abhishava_ priests and Brahmans led the way,\n\nAnd the holy Soma-drinkers pressed the sacred Soma plant,\nAnd performed the pure _savana_ with the solemn _saman_ chant.\n\nBounty waits on squalid hunger, gifts dispel the timid fear,\nGold revives the poor and lowly, mercy wipes the mourner's tear,\n\nTender care relieves the stricken by the gracious king's command,\nCharity with loving sweetness spreads her smile o'er all the land!\n\nDay by day the _aswa-medha_ doth with sacred rites proceed,\nDay by day on royal bounty poor and grateful myriads feed,\n\nAnd adept in six Vedangas, strict in vow and rich in lore,\nSage preceptors, holy teachers, grew in virtue ever more!\n\nSix good stakes of _vilwa_ timber, six of hard _khadira_ wood,\nSix of seasoned _sarvavarnin_, on the place of _yajna_ stood,\n\nTwo were made of _devadaru_, pine that on Himalay grows,\nOne was made of wood of _slesha_ which the sacrificer knows,\n\nOther stakes of golden lustre quaint with curious carving done,\nDraped in silk and gold-brocaded like the _ursa major_ shone!\n\nAnd the consecrated altar built and raised of bricks of gold,\nShone in splendour like the altar Daksha built in days of old,\n\nEighteen cubits square the structure, four deep layers of brick in height,\nWith a spacious winged triangle like an eagle in its flight!\n\nBeasts whose flesh is pure and wholesome, dwellers of the lake or sky,\nPriests assigned each varied offering to each heavenly power on high,\n\nBulls of various breed and colour, steeds of mettle true and tried,\nOther creatures, full three hundred, to the many stakes were tied.\n\n_Deva-rishis_ viewed the feasting, sweet _gandharvas_ woke the song,\n_Apsaras_ like gleams of sunlight on the greensward tripped along,\n\n_Kinnaras_ and _kim-purushas_ mingled in the holy rite,\n_Siddhas_ of austerest penance stood around the sacred site!\n\nVyasa's great and gifted pupils, who the Vedas have compiled,\nGazed upon the _aswa-medha_, on the wondrous _yajna_ smiled!\n\nFrom the bright ethereal mansions heavenly _rishi_ Narad came,\nChetra-sena woke the music, singer of celestial fame,\n\nCheered by more than mortal music Brahmans to their task incline,\nAnd Yudhishthir's fame and virtue with a brighter lustre shine!\n\nIV\n\nSacrifice of the Horse\n\nBirds and beasts thus immolated, dressed and cooked, provide the food,\nThen before the sacred charger priests in rank and order stood,\n\nAnd by rules of Veda guided slew the horse of noble breed,\nPlaced Draupadi, _Queen of yajna_, by the slain and lifeless steed,\n\nHymns and gifts and pure devotion sanctified the noble Queen,\nWoman's worth and stainless virtue, woman's pride and wisdom keen!\n\nPriests with holy contemplation cooked the horse with pious rite,\nAnd the steam of welcome fragrance sanctified the sacred site,\n\nGood Yudhishthir and his brothers, by the rules by _rishis_ spoke,\nPiously inhaled the fragrance and the sin-destroying smoke,\n\nSevered limbs and sacred fragments of the courser duly dressed,\nPriests upon the blazing altar as a pious offering placed,\n\nAnd the ancient bard of Vedas, Vyasa raised his voice in song,\nBlessed Yudhishthir, Kuru's monarch, and the many-nationed throng!\n\nV\n\nGifts\n\nUnto Brahmans gave Yudhishthir countless _nishkas_ of bright gold,\nUnto sage and saintly Vyasa all his realm and wealth untold,\n\nBut the bard and ancient _rishi_ who the holy Vedas spake,\nRendered back the monarch's present, earthly gift he might not take!\n\n\"Thine is Kuru's ancient empire, rule the nations of the earth,\nGods have destined thee as monarch from the moment of thy birth,\n\nGold and wealth and rich _dakshina_ let the priests and Brahmans hoard,\nBe it thine to rule thy subjects as their father and their lord!\"\n\nKrishna too in gentle accents to the doubting monarch said:\n\"Vyasa speaketh word of wisdom and his mandate be obeyed!\"\n\nFrom the _rishi_ good Yudhishthir then received the Kuru-land,\nWith a threefold gift of riches gladdened all the priestly band,\n\nPious priests and grateful nations to their distant regions went,\nAnd his share of presents Vyasa to the ancient Pritha sent.\n\nFame and virtue Kuru's monarch by the _aswa-medha_ wins,\nAnd the rite of pure ablution cleanses all Yudhishthir's sins,\n\nAnd he stands amid his brothers, brightly beaming, pure and high,\nEven as INDRA stands encircled by the dwellers of the sky,\n\nAnd the concourse of the monarchs grace Yudhishthir's regal might,\nAs the radiant stars and planets grace the stillness of the night!\n\nGems and jewels in his bounty, gold and garments rich and rare,\nGave Yudhishthir to each monarch, slaves and damsels passing fair,\n\nLoving gifts to dear relations gave the king of righteous fame,\nAnd the grateful parting monarchs blessed Yudhishthir's hallowed name!\n\nLast of all with many tear-drops Krishna mounts his lofty car,\nFaithful still in joy or sorrow, faithful still in peace or war,\n\nArjun's comrade, Bhima's helper, good Yudhishthir's friend of yore,\nKrishna leaves Hastina's mansions for the sea-girt Dwarka's shore!\n\n\n\n\nCONCLUSION\n\n\nThe real Epic ends with the war and with the funerals of the deceased\nwarriors, as we have stated before, and Yudhishthir's Horse-Sacrifice\nis rather a crowning ornament than a part of the solid edifice. What\nfollows the sacrifice is in no sense a part of the real Epic; it\nconsists merely of concluding personal narratives of the heroes who\nhave figured in the poem.\n\nDhrita-rashtra retires into a forest with his queen Gandhari, and\nPritha, the mother of the Pandav brothers, accompanies them. In the\nsolitude of the forest the old Dhrita-rashtra sees as in a vision\nthe spirits of all the slain warriors, his sons and grandsons and\nkinsmen, clad and armed as they were in battle. The spirits disappear\nin the morning at the bidding of Vyasa, who had called them up. At\nlast Dhrita-rashtra and Gandhari and Pritha are burnt to death in a\nforest conflagration, death by fire being considered holy.\n\nKrishna at Dwarka meets with strange and tragic adventures. The\nVrishnis and the Andhakas become irreligious and addicted to\ndrinking, and fall a prey to internal dissensions. Valadeva and\nKrishna die shortly after, and the city of the Yadavas is swallowed\nup by the ocean.\n\nThen follow the two concluding Books of the Epic, the _Great Journey_\nand the _Ascent to Heaven_, so beautifully rendered into English by\nSir Edwin Arnold. On hearing of the death of their friend Krishna,\nthe Pandav brothers place Prakshit, the grandson of Arjun, on the\nthrone, and retire to the Himalayas. Draupadi drops down dead on\nthe way, then Sahadeva, then Nakula, then Arjun, and then Bhima.\nYudhishthir alone proceeds to heaven in person in a celestial car.\n\nThere Yudhishthir undergoes some trial, bathes in the celestial\nGanges, and rises with a celestial body. He then meets Krishna, now\nin his heavenly form, blazing in splendour and glory. He meets his\nbrothers whom he had lost on earth, but who are now Immortals in\nthe sky, clad in heavenly forms. INDRA himself appears before\nYudhishthir, and introduces him to others who were dear to him on\nearth, and are dear to him in heaven. Thus speaks INDRA to\nYudhishthir:\n\n\"This is She, the fair Immortal! Her no human mother bore,\nSprung from altar as Draupadi human shape for thee she wore,\n\nBy the Wielder of the trident she was waked to form and life,\nBorn in royal Drupad's mansion, righteous man, to be thy wife,\n\nThese are bright aerial beings, went for thee to lower earth,\nBorne by Drupad's stainless daughter as thy children took their birth!\n\nThis is monarch Dhrita-rashtra who doth o'er _gandharvas_ reign,\nThis is brave immortal Karna, erst on earth by Arjun slain,\n\nLike the fire in ruddy splendour, for the Sun inspired his birth,\nAs the son of Chariot-driver he was known upon the earth!\n\n'Midst the _Sadhyas_ and the _Maruts_, 'midst immortals pure and bright,\nSeek thy friends the faithful Vrishnis matchless in their warlike might.\n\nSeek and find the brave Satyaki who upheld thy cause so well,\nSeek the Bhojas and Andhakas who in Kuru-kshetra fell!\n\nThis is gallant Abhimanyu whom the fair Subhadra bore,\nStill unconquered in the battle, slain by fraud in yonder shore,\n\nAbhimanyu, son of Arjun, wielding Arjun's peerless might,\nWith the Lord of Night he ranges, beauteous as the Lord of Night!\n\nThis, Yudhishthir, is thy father! by thy mother joined in heaven,\nOft he comes into my mansions in his flowery chariot driven,\n\nThis is Bhishma, stainless warrior, by the _Vasus_ is his place,\nBy the god of heavenly wisdom teacher Drona sits in grace!\n\n_These and other mighty warriors, in the earthly battle slain,\nBy their valour and their virtue walk the bright ethereal plain!_\n\n_They have cast their mortal bodies, crossed the radiant gate of heaven,\nFor to win celestial mansions unto mortals it is given!_\n\n_Let them strive by kindly action, gentle speech, endurance long,\nBrighter life and holier future into sons of men belong!\"_\n\n\n\n\nTRANSLATOR'S EPILOGUE\n\n\nAncient India, like ancient Greece, boasts of two great Epics. One\nof them, the _Maha-bharata_, relates to a great war in which all the\nwarlike races of Northern India took a share, and may therefore be\ncompared to the Iliad. The other, the _Ramayana_, relates mainly to\nthe adventures of its hero, banished from his country and wandering\nfor long years in the wildernesses of Southern India, and may\ntherefore be compared to the Odyssey. It is the first of these\ntwo Epics, the Iliad of Ancient India, which is the subject of\ntile foregoing pages.\n\nThe great war which is the subject of this Epic is believed to have\nbeen fought in the thirteenth or fourteenth century before Christ.\nFor generations and centuries after the war its main incidents must\nhave been sung by bards and minstrels in the courts of Northern\nIndia. The war thus became the centre of a cycle of legends, songs,\nand poems in ancient India, even as Charlemagne and Arthur became the\ncentres of legends in mediaeval Europe. And then, probably under\nthe direction of some enlightened king, the vast mass of legends and\npoetry, accumulated during centuries, was cast in a narrative form\nand formed the Epic of the Great Bharata nation, and therefore called\nthe _Maha-bharata_. The real facts of the war had been obliterated by\nage, legendary heroes had become the principal actors, and, as is\ninvariably the case in India, the thread of a high moral purpose, of\nthe triumph of virtue and the subjugation of vice, was woven into the\nfabric of the great Epic.\n\nWe should have been thankful if this Epic, as it was thus originally\nput together some centuries before the Christian era, had been\npreserved to us. But this was not to be. The Epic became so popular\nthat it went on growing with the growth of centuries. Every\ngeneration of poets had something to add; every distant nation in\nNorthern India was anxious to interpolate some account of its deeds\nin the old record of the international war; every preacher of a new\ncreed desired to have in the old Epic some sanction for the new\ntruths he inculcated. Passages from legal and moral codes were\nincorporated in the work which appealed to the nation much more\neffectively than dry codes; and rules about the different castes and\nabout the different stages of the human life were included for the\nsame purpose. All the floating mass of tales, traditions, legends,\nand myths, for which ancient India was famous, found a shelter under\nthe expanding wings of this wonderful Epic; and as Krishna-worship\nbecame the prevailing religion of India after the decay of Buddhism,\nthe old Epic caught the complexion of the times, and Krishna-cult is\nits dominating religious idea in its present shape. It is thus that\nthe work went on growing for a thousand years after it was first\ncompiled and put together in the form of an Epic; until the crystal\nrill of the Epic itself was all but lost in an unending morass of\nreligious and didactic episodes, legends, tales, and traditions.\n\nWhen the mischief had been done, and the Epic had nearly assumed its\npresent proportions, a few centuries after Christ according to the\nlate Dr. Buehler, an attempt was made to prevent the further\nexpansion of the work. The contents of the Epic were described in\nsome prefatory verses, and the number of couplets in each Book was\nstated. The total number of couplets, according to this metrical\npreface, is about eighty-five thousand. But the limit so fixed\nhas been exceeded in still later centuries; further additions and\ninterpolations have been made; and the Epic as printed and published\nin Calcutta in this century contains over ninety thousand couplets,\nexcluding the Supplement about the Race of Hari.\n\nThe modern reader will now understand the reason why this great\nEpic--the greatest work of imagination that Asia has produced--has\nnever yet been put before the European reader in a readable form. A\npoem of ninety thousand couplets, about seven times the size of the\nIliad and the Odyssey put together, is more than what the average\nreader can stand; and the heterogeneous nature of its contents does\nnot add to the interest of the work. If the religious works of\nHooker and Jeremy Taylor, the philosophy of Hobbes and Locke, the\ncommentaries of Blackstone and the ballads of Percy, together with\nthe tractarian writings of Newman, Keble, and Pusey, were all thrown\ninto blank verse and incorporated with the Paradise Lost, the reader\nwould scarcely be much to blame if he failed to appreciate that\ndelectable compound. A complete translation of the _Maha-bharata_\ntherefore into English verse is neither possible nor desirable, but\nportions of it have now and then been placed before English readers\nby distinguished writers. Dean Milman's graceful rendering of the\nstory of Nala and Damayanti is still read and appreciated by a select\ncircle of readers; and Sir Edwin Arnold's beautiful translation of\nthe concluding books of the Epic is familiar to a larger circle of\nEnglishmen. A complete translation of the Epic into English prose has\nalso been published in India, and is useful to Sanscrit scholars for\nthe purpose of reference.\n\nBut although the old Epic had thus been spoilt by unlimited\nexpansion, yet nevertheless the leading incidents and characters of\nthe real Epic are still discernible, uninjured by the mass of foreign\nsubstance in which they are embedded--even like those immortal marble\nfigures which have been recovered from the ruins of an ancient world,\nand now beautify the museums of modern Europe. For years past I have\nthought that it was perhaps not impossible to exhume this buried Epic\nfrom the superincumbent mass of episodical matter, and to restore\nit to the modern world. For years past I have felt a longing to\nundertake this work, but the task was by no means an easy one.\nLeaving out all episodical matter, the leading narrative of the Epic\nforms about one-fourth of the work; and a complete translation even\nof this leading story would be unreadable, both from its length and\nits prolixness. On the other hand, to condense the story into shorter\nlimits would be, not to make a translation, but virtually to write a\nnew poem; and that was not what I desired to undertake, nor what I\nwas competent to perform.\n\nThere seemed to me only one way out of this difficulty. The\nmain incidents of the Epic are narrated in the original work in\npassages which are neither diffuse nor unduly prolix, and which are\ninterspersed in the leading narrative of the Epic, at that narrative\nitself is interspersed in the midst of more lengthy episodes. The\nmore carefully I examined the arrangement, the more clearly it\nappeared to me that these main incidents of the Epic would bear a\nfull and unabridged translation into English verse; and that these\ntranslations, linked together by short connecting notes, would\nvirtually present the entire story of the Epic to the modern reader in\na form and within limits which might be acceptable. It would be, no\ndoubt, a condensed version of the original Epic, but the condensation\nwould be effected, not by the translator telling a short story in his\nown language, but by linking together those passages of the original\nwhich describe the main and striking incidents, and thus telling\nthe main story as told in the original work. The advantage of this\narrangement is that, in the passages presented to the reader, it is\nthe poet who speaks to him, not the translator. Though vast portions\nof the original are skipped over, those which are presented are the\nportions which narrate the main incidents of the Epic, and they\ndescribe those incidents as told by the poet himself.\n\nThis is the plan I have generally adopted in the present work. Except\nin the three books which describe the actual war (Books viii., ix.,\nand x.), the other nine books of this translation are complete\ntranslations of selected passages of the original work. I have not\nattempted to condense these passages nor to expand them; I have\nendeavoured to put them before the English reader as they have\nbeen told by the poet in Sanscrit. Occasionally, but rarely, a few\nredundant couplets have been left out, or a long list of proper names\nor obscure allusions has been shortened; and in one place only, at\nthe beginning of the Fifth Book, I have added twelve couplets of my\nown to explain the circumstances under which the story of Savitri is\ntold. Generally, therefore, the translation may be accepted as an\nunabridged, though necessarily a free translation of the passages\ndescribing the main incidents of the Epic.\n\nFrom this method I have been compelled to depart, much against my\nwish, in the three books describing the actual war. No translation\nof an Epic relating to a great war can be acceptable which does not\nnarrate the main events of the war. The war of the _Maha-bharata_\nwas a series of eighteen battles, fought on eighteen consecutive\ndays, and I felt it necessary to present the reader with an account\nof each day's work. In order to do so, I have been compelled to\ncondense, and not merely to translate selected passages. For the\ntransactions of the war, unlike the other incidents of the Epic, have\nbeen narrated in the original with almost inconceivable prolixity and\nendless repetition; and the process of condensation in these three\nbooks has therefore been severe and thorough. But, nevertheless, even\nin these books I have endeavoured to preserve the character and the\nspirit of the original. Not only are the incidents narrated in the\nsame order as in the original, but they are told in the style of the\npoet as far as possible. Even the similes and metaphors and figures\nof speech are all or mostly adopted from the original; the translator\nhas not ventured either to adopt his own distinct style of narration,\nor to improve on the style of the original with his own decorations.\n\nSuch is the scheme I have adopted in presenting an Epic of ninety\nthousand Sanscrit couplets in about two thousand English couplets.\n\nThe excellent and deservedly popular prose translation of the Odyssey\nof Homer by Messrs. Butcher and Lang often led me to think that\nperhaps a prose translation of these selected passages from the\n_Maha-bharata_ might be more acceptable to the modern reader. But a\nmore serious consideration of the question dispelled that idea. Homer\nhas an interest for the European reader which the _Maha-bharata_\ncannot lay claim to; as the father of European poetry he has a claim\non the veneration of modern Europe which an Indian poet can never\npretend to. To thousands of European readers Homer is familiar\nin the original, to hundreds of thousands he is known in various\ntranslations in various modern languages. What Homer actually wrote,\na numerous class of students in Europe wish to know; and a literal\nprose translation therefore is welcome, after the great Epic has been\nso often translated in verse. The case is very different with the\n_Maha-bharata_, practically unknown to European readers. And the\ntranslators of Homer themselves gracefully acknowledge, \"We have\ntried to transfer, not all the truth about the poem, but the\nhistorical truth into English. In this process Homer must lose at\nleast half his charm, his bright and equable speed, the musical\ncurrent of that narrative, which, like the river of Egypt, flows from\nan undiscoverable source, and mirrors the temples and the palaces of\nunforgotten gods and kings. Without the music of verse, only a half\ntruth about Homer can be told.\"\n\nAnother earnest worker of the present day, who is endeavouring to\ninterpret to modern Englishmen the thoughts and sentiments and poetry\nof their Anglo-Saxon ancestors, has emphatically declared that \"of\nall possible translations of poetry, a merely prose translation is\nthe most inaccurate.\" \"Prose,\" says Mr. Stopford Brooke, further on,\n\"no more represents poetry than architecture does music. Translations\nof poetry are never much good, but at least they should always\nendeavour to have the musical movement of poetry, and to obey the\nlaws of the verse they translate.\"\n\nThis appears to me to be a very sound maxim. And one of my greatest\ndifficulties in the task I have undertaken has been to try and\npreserve something of the \"musical movement\" of the sonorous Sanscrit\npoetry in the English translation. Much of tile Sanscrit Epic is\nwritten in the well-known _Sloka_ metre of sixteen syllables in each\nline, and I endeavoured to choose some English metre which is\nfamiliar to the English ear, and which would reproduce to some extent\nthe rhythm, the majesty, and the long and measured sweep of the\nSanscrit verse. It was necessary to adopt such a metre in order to\ntransfer something of the truth about the _Maha-bharata_ into\nEnglish, for without such reproduction or imitation of the musical\nmovement of the original very much less than a half truth is told.\nMy kind friend Mr. Edmund Russell, impelled by that enthusiasm for\nIndian poetry and Indian art which is a part of him, rendered me\nvaluable help and assistance in this matter, and I gratefully\nacknowledge, the benefit I have derived from his advice and\nsuggestions. After considerable trouble and anxiety, and after\nrendering several books in different English metres, I felt convinced\nthat the one finally adopted was a nearer approach to the Sanscrit\n_Sloka_ than any other familiar English metre known to me.\n\nI have recited a verse in this English metre and a _Sloka_ in\npresence of listeners who have a better ear for music than myself,\nand they have marked the close resemblance. I quote a few lines from\nthe Sanscrit showing varieties of the _Sloka_ metre, and comparing\nthem with the scheme of the English metre selected.\n\nEsha Kuntishutah sriman | esha madhyama Pandavah\nEsha putro Mahendrasya | Kurunam esha rakshita\n\n--Maha-bharata, i. 5357.\n\nYet I doubt not through the ages | one increasing purpose runs\nAnd the thoughts of men are widened | with the process of the suns\n\n--Locksley Hall.\n\nMalancha samupadaya | kanchanim samalamkritam\nAvatirna tato rangam | Draupadi Bharatarshabha\n\n--Maha-bharata, i. 6974.\n\nVisions of the days departed | shadowy phantoms filled my brain;\nThose who live in history only | seemed to walk the earth again\n\n--Belfry of Bruges.\n\nAsuryam iva suryena | nirvatam iva vayuna\nBhasitam hladitanchaiva | Krishnenedam sado hi nah\n\n--Maha-bharata, ii. 1334.\n\nQuaint old town of toil and traffic | quaint old town of art and song,\nMemories haunt thy pointed gables, | like the rooks that round thee throng.\n\n--Nueremberg.\n\nHa Pando ha maharaja | kvasi kim samupekshase\nPutran vivasyatah sadhun | aribhir dyutanirjitan\n\n--Maha-bharata, ii. 2610.\n\nIn her ear he whispers gaily, | If my heart by signs can tell,\nMaiden I have watched thee daily, | And I think thou lov'st me well\n\n--Lord of Burleigh.\n\nIt would be too much to assume that even with the help of this\nsimilarity in metres, I have been able to transfer into my English\nthat sweep and majesty of verse which is the charm of Sanscrit, and\nwhich often sustains and elevates the simplest narration and the\nplainest ideas. Without the support of those sustaining wings, my\npoor narration must often plod through the dust; and I can only ask\nfor the indulgence of the reader, which every translator of poetry\nfrom a foreign language can with reason ask, if the story as told\nin the translation is sometimes but a plain, simple, and homely\nnarrative. For any artistic decoration I have neither the inclination\nnor the necessary qualification. The crisp and ornate style, the\nquaint expression, the chiselled word, the new-coined phrase,\nin which modern English poetry is rich, would scarcely suit the\ntranslation of an old Epic whose predominating characteristic is\nits simple and easy flow of narrative. Indeed, the _Maha-bharata_\nwould lose that unadorned simplicity which is its first and foremost\nfeature if the translator ventured to decorate it with the art of\nthe modern day, even if he had been qualified to do so.\n\nFor if there is one characteristic feature which distinguishes the\n_Maha-bharata_ (as well as the other Indian Epic, the _Ramayana_)\nfrom all later Sanscrit literature, it is the grand simplicity of\nits narrative, which contrasts with the artificial graces of later\nSanscrit poetry. The poetry of Kalidasa, for instance, is ornate and\nbeautiful, and almost scintillates with similes in every verse; the\npoetry of the _Maha-bharara_ is plain and unpolished, and scarcely\nstoops to a simile or a figure of speech unless the simile comes\nnaturally to the poet. The great deeds of godlike kings sometimes\nsuggest to the poet the mighty deeds of gods; the rushing of warriors\nsuggests the rushing of angry elephants in the echoing jungle; the\nflight of whistling arrows suggests the flight of sea-birds; the\nsound and movement of surging crowds suggest the heaving of billows;\nthe erect attitude of a warrior suggests a tall cliff; the beauty\nof a maiden suggests the soft beauty of the blue lotus. When such\ncomparisons come naturally to the poet, he accepts them and notes\nthem down, but he never seems to go in quest of them, he is never\nanxious to beautify and decorate. He seems to trust entirely to his\ngrand narrative, to his heroic characters, to his stirring incidents,\nto hold millions of listeners in perpetual thrall. The majestic and\nsonorous Sanscrit metre is at his command, and even this he uses,\ncarelessly, and with frequent slips, known as _arsha_ to later\ngrammarians. The poet certainly seeks for no art to decorate his\ntale, he trusts to the lofty chronicle of bygone heroes to enchain\nthe listening mankind.\n\nAnd what heroes! In the delineation of character the _Maha-bharata_\nis far above anything which we find in later Sanscrit poetry. Indeed,\nwith much that is fresh and sweet and lovely in later Sanscrit\npoetry, there is little or no portraiture of character. All heroes\nare cast much in the same heroic mould; all love-sick heroines suffer\nin silence and burn with fever, all fools are shrewd and impudent\nby turns, all knaves are heartless and cruel and suffer in the end.\nThere is not much to distinguish between one warrior and another,\nbetween one tender woman and her sister. In the _Maha-bharata_ we\nfind just the reverse; each hero has a distinct individuality, a\ncharacter of his own, clearly discernible from that of other heroes.\nNo work of the imagination that could be named, always excepting\nthe Iliad, is so rich and so true as the _Maha-bharata_ in the\nportraiture of the human character,--not in torment and suffering as\nin Dante, not under overwhelming passions as in Shakespeare,--but\nhuman character in its calm dignity of strength and repose, like\nthose immortal figures in marble which the ancients turned out, and\nwhich modern sculptors have vainly sought to reproduce. The old Kuru\nmonarch Dhrita-rashtra, sightless and feeble, but majestic in his\nancient grandeur; the noble grandsire Bhishma, \"death's subduer\"\nand unconquerable in war; the doughty Drona, venerable priest and\nvengeful warrior; and the proud and peerless archer Karna--have each a\ndistinct character of his own which can not be mistaken for a moment.\nThe good and royal Yudhishthir, (I omit the final _a_ in some long\nnames which occur frequently), the \"tiger-waisted\" Bhima, and the\n\"helmet-wearing\" Arjun are the Agamemnon, the Ajax, and the Achilles\nof the Indian Epic. The proud and unyielding Duryodhan, and the\nfierce and fiery Duhsasan stand out foremost among the wrathful sons\nof the feeble old Kuru monarch. And Krishna possesses a character\nhigher than that of Ulysses; unmatched in human wisdom, ever striving\nfor righteousness and peace, he is thorough and unrelenting in\nwar when war has begun. And the women of the Indian Epic possess\ncharacters as marked as those of the men. The stately and majestic\nqueen Gandhari, the loving and doting mother Pritha, the proud and\nscornful Draupadi nursing her wrath till her wrongs are fearfully\nrevenged, and the bright and brilliant and sunny Subhadra,--these are\ndistinct images pencilled by the hand of a true master in the realm\nof creative imagination.\n\nAnd if the characters of the _Maha-bharata_ impress themselves on\nthe reader, the incidents of the Epic are no less striking. Every\nscene on the shifting stage is a perfect and impressive picture. The\ntournament of the princes in which Arjun and Karna--the Achilles and\nHector of the Indian Epic--first met and each marked the other for his\nfoe; the gorgeous bridal of Draupadi; the equally gorgeous coronation\nof Yudhishthir and the death of the proud and boisterous Sisupala;\nthe fatal game of dice and the scornful wrath of Draupadi against her\ninsulters; the calm beauty of the forest life of the Pandavs; the\ncattle-lifting in Matsyaland in which the gallant Arjun threw off his\ndisguise and stood forth as warrior and conqueror; and the Homeric\nspeeches of the warriors in the council of war on the eve of the\ngreat contest,--each scene of this venerable old Epic impresses\nitself on the mind of the hushed and astonished reader. Then follows\nthe war of eighteen days. The first few days are more or less\nuneventful, and have been condensed in this translation often into\na few couplets; but the interest of the reader increases as he\napproaches the final battle and fall of the grand old fighter\nBhishma. Then follows the stirring story of the death of Arjun's\ngallant boy, and Arjun's fierce revenge, and the death of the priest\nand warrior, doughty Drona. Last comes the crowning event of the\nEpic, the final contest between Arjun and Karna, the heroes of the\nEpic, and the war ends in a midnight slaughter and the death of\nDuryodhan. The rest of the story is told in this translation in\ntwo books describing the funerals of the deceased warriors, and\nYudhishthir's horse-sacrifice.\n\n\"The poems of Homer,\" says Mr. Gladstone, \"differ from all other\nknown poetry in this, that they constitute in themselves an\nencyclopaedia of life and knowledge; at a time when knowledge,\nindeed, such as lies beyond the bounds of actual experience, was\nextremely limited, and when life was singularly fresh, vivid, and\nexpansive.\" This remark applies with even greater force to the\n_Maha-bharata_; it is an encyclopaedia of the life and knowledge\nof Ancient India. And it discloses to us an ancient and forgotten\nworld, a proud and noble civilisation which has passed away. Northern\nIndia was then parcelled among warlike races living side by side\nunder their warlike kings, speaking the same language, performing\nthe same religious rites and ceremonies, rejoicing in a common\nliterature, rivalling each other in their schools of philosophy and\nlearning as in the arts of peace and civilisation, and forming a\nconfederation of Hindu nations unknown to and unknowing the outside\nworld. What this confederation of nations has done for the cause of\nhuman knowledge and human civilisation is a matter of history. Their\ninquiries into the hidden truths of religion, embalmed in the ancient\n_Upanishads_, have never been excelled within the last three thousand\nyears. Their inquiries into philosophy, preserved in the _Sankhya_\nand the _Vedanta_ systems, were the first systems of true philosophy\nwhich the world produced. And their great works of imagination, the\n_Maha-bharata_ and the _Ramayana_, will be placed without hesitation\nby the side of Homer by critics who survey the world's literatures\nfrom a lofty standpoint, and judge impartially of the wares turned\nout by the hand of man in all parts of the globe. It is scarcely\nnecessary to add that the discoveries of the ancient Hindus in\nscience, and specially in mathematics, are the heritage of the modern\nworld; and that the lofty religion of Buddha, proclaimed in India\nfive centuries before Christ, is now the religion of a third of the\nhuman race. For the rest, the people of modern India know how to\nappreciate their ancient heritage. It is not an exaggeration to\nstate that the two hundred millions of Hindus of the present day\ncherish in their hearts the story of their ancient Epics. The Hindu\nscarcely lives, man or woman, high or low, educated or ignorant,\nwhose earliest recollections do not cling round the story and the\ncharacters of the great Epics. The almost illiterate oil-manufacturer\nor confectioner of Bengal spells out some modern translation of the\nMaha-bharata to while away his leisure hour. The tall and stalwart\npeasantry of the North-West know of the five Pandav brothers, and of\ntheir friend the righteous Krishna. The people of Bombay and Madras\ncherish with equal ardour the story of the righteous war. And even\nthe traditions and tales interspersed in the Epic, and which spoil\nthe work as an Epic, have themselves a charm and an attraction;\nand the morals inculcated in these tales sink into the hearts of\na naturally religious people, and form the basis of their moral\neducation. Mothers in India know no better theme for imparting wisdom\nand instruction to their daughters, and elderly men know no richer\nstorehouse for narrating tales to children, than these stories\npreserved in the Epics. No work in Europe, not Homer in Greece or\nVirgil in Italy, not Shakespeare or Milton in English-speaking lands,\nis the national property of the nations to the same extent as the\nEpics of India are of the Hindus. No single work except the Bible has\nsuch influence in affording moral instruction in Christian lands as\nthe _Maha-bharata_ and the _Ramayana_ in India. They have been the\ncherished heritage of the Hindus for three thousand years; they are\nto the present day interwoven with the thoughts and beliefs and moral\nideas of a nation numbering two hundred millions.\n\nROMESH DUTT.\n\nUniversity College, London,\n     _13th August 1898_.\n\n\n\n\nGLOSSARY OF SANSCRIT WORDS\n\nABHISHAVA, a religious rite.\nABBHISHEKA, sacred ablution.\nACHARYA, preceptor.\nAJYA, a form of sacrificial offering.\nAPRAMATTA, without pride or passion.\nAPSARAS, celestial nymphs.\nARGHYA, an offering due to an honoured guest.\nARYA, noble.\nASRAM, hermitage.\nASURA, Titans, enemies of gods.\nASWAMEDHA, sacrifice of the horse.\n\nBAIDURYA, lapiz-lazuli.\nBRAHMACHARIN, one who has taken vows and lives an austere life.\n\nCHANDAN, sandalwood, the paste of which is used for fragrance and coolness.\nCHOWRI or CHAMARI, the Himalayan yak, whose bushy tail is used as a fan.\n\nDAKSHINA, gifts made at sacrifices.\nDASAPUTRA, son of a slave.\nDEVA, gods.\nDEVADARU (_lit._ heavenly tree), the Indian pine.\nDEVA-KANYA, celestial maid.\nDEVA-RISHI, celestial saint.\nDHARMA-RAJA, monarch by reason of piety and virtue.\nDIKSHA, initiation into a sacred rite.\n\nGANDHARVA, a class of aerial beings; celestial singers.\nGANDIVA, Arjun's bow.\nGHEE or GHRITA, clarified butter.\nGURU, preceptor.\n\nHOMA, a sacrificial rite or offering.\nHOWDA, the seat on an elephant.\n\nIDA, a form of sacrificial offering.\n\nKANKA, a bird of prey.\nKHADIRA, an Indian tree.\nKIMPURUSHA, a class of imaginary beings.\nKINNARA, a class of imaginary beings with the face of a horse.\nKOKIL, an Indian bird answering to the English cuckoo, and prized\n  for its sweet note.\n\nMAGHA, a, winter month.\nMAHUT or MAHAMATRA, elephant driver\nMANTRA, hymn or incantation.\nMLECHCHA, outer barbarian. All who were not Hindus were designated\n  by this name.\nMUNI, saint, anchorite.\n\nNAGA, dweller of the snake-world; also a tribe in Eastern India.\nNISHADA, an aboriginal race.\nNISHKA, gold pieces of specified weight, used as money and also as\n  ornament.\n\nPANKHA (from Sanscrit _paksha_, wing), a fan.\nPISHACHA, ghost or goblin.\nPITRI-MEDHA, sacrifice and offering due to departed ancestors.\nPRAVARGYA, a religious rite.\nPURANA, a class of religious works.\nPURUSHA, the soul.\n\nRAJASUYA, imperial sacrifice.\nRAKSHA or RAKSHASA, monster or goblin.\nRIK, hymn recited at sacrifice.\nRISHI, saint; a holy man retired from the world and devoting himself\n  to pious rites and contemplation.\n\nSAMADHI, austere religious practice.\nSAMAN, hymn chanted at sacrifice.\nSAMI, an Indian tree.\nSANKHA, sounding conch-shell.\nSARVAVARNIN, an Indian tree.\nSASTRA, scriptures and religious works.\nSAVANA, a religious rite.\nSAVITRI, a hymn; also the goddess of the hymn.\nSIDDHA, holy celestial beings.\nSLESHA, an Indian tree.\nSUPARNA, celestial bird.\nSWARGA, heaven.\nSWASTI, a word uttered to dispel evil.\nSWAYAMVARA, a form of bridal, the bride selecting her husband from\n  among suitors.\n\nTIRTHA, holy rites at the crossing of rivers.\nTRIRATRA, a three nights' penance and fast.\n\nVEDA, the most ancient and holiest scriptures of the Hindus.\nVIJAYA, Karna's bow.\nVINA, the lyre.\n\nYAJNA, sacrifice.\nYATO DHARMA STATO JAYAH, where there is virtue there is victory.\nYUGA, the period of the world's existence.\n\n\n\nIn view of the comprehensive character of the \"Temple Classics,\"\nit has seemed desirable to include Mr. Dutt's version of India's\ngreat Epic--the work of a distinguished soldier and patriot. The\nimportance of the poem is sufficiently explained in Mr. Dutt's\nNote. The translator's high position in Modern Indian Literature is\nattested by the following reference in Mr. R. W. Frazer's recent\n\"Literary History of India\" (an excellent survey of the whole\nsubject, to which the reader should turn, more especially for its\nluminous account of the Epics and Dramas of Ancient India):--\"A\nworthy follower of India's first great novelist (Bankim Chandra\nChatterji) appeared in Romesh Chandra Dutt, the ablest native member\nof the Indian Civil Service. His novels have now passed through five\nof six editions in the Bengali.... His translation of the 'Rig Veda\nSanhita' into Bengali appeared in 1887; his valuable 'History of\nCivilisation of Ancient India,' in English, in three volumes, from\n1889, &c. &c.... A whole library of 'Sorrow and Song' was poured\nforth by this Dutt family of Rambagan.\" Mr. Dutt is at present\nresident in London, holding the office of Lecturer in Indian History\nat University College, and devoting himself to literary and other\nlabours.\n\nI.G.\n\nNov. 15th, 1898","title":"Maha-bharata: The Epic of Ancient India Condensed into English Verse","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":51105}