Sri Mahabharat - Abridged nto English Verse - Part 2

MAHABHARATA BOOK VI

GO-HARANA

(Cattle-Lifting)

THE conditions of the banishment of the sons of Pandu were hard. They must pass twelve years in exile, and then they must remain a year in concealment. If they were discovered within this last year, they must go into exile for another twelve years. Having passed the twelve years of exile in forests, the Pandav brothers disguised themselves and entered into the menial service of Virata, king of the Matsyas, to pass the year of concealment. Yudhishthir presented himself as a Brahman, skilled in dice, and became a courtier of the king. Bhima entered the king's service as cook. For Arjun, who was so well known, a stricter concealment was necessary. He wore conch bangles and earrings and braided his hair, like those unfortunate beings whom nature has debarred from the privileges of men and women, and he lived in the inner apartments of the king. He assumed the name of Brihannala, and taught the inmates of the royal household in music and dancing. Nakula became a keeper of the king's horses, and Sahadeva took charge of the king's cows. Draupadi too disguised herself as a waiting-woman, and served the princess of the Matsya house in that humble capacity.
In these disguises the Pandav brothers safely passed a year in concealment in spite of all search which Duryodhan made after them. At last an incident happened which led to their discovery when the year was out.
Cattle-lifting was a common practice with the kings of ancient India, as with the chiefs of ancient Greece. The king of the Trigartas and the king of the Kurus combined and fell on the king of the Matsyas in order to drive off the numerous herd of fine cattle for which his kingdom was famed. The Trigartas entered the Matsya kingdom from the south-east, and while Virata went out with his troops to meet the foe, Duryodhan with his Kuru forces fell on the kingdom from the north.
When news came that the Kurus had invaded the kingdom, there was no army in the capital to defend it. King Virata had gone out with most of his troops to face the Trigartas in the south-east, and the prince Uttara had no inclination to face the Kurus in the north. The disguised Arjun now came to the rescue in the manner described in this Book. The description of the bows. arrows, and swords of the Pandav brothers which they had concealed in a tree, wrapped like human corpses to frighten away inquisitive travellers, throws some light on the arts and manufacture of ancient times. The portions translated in this Book form Sections xxxv., xxxvi., xl. to xliii., a portion of Section xliv., and Sections liii. and lxxii. of Book iv. of the original text.

I

COMPLAINT OF THE COWHERD

Monarch of the mighty Matsyas, brave Virata known to fame,
Marched against Trigarta chieftains who from southward regions came,
From the north the proud Duryodhan, stealing onwards day by day,
Swooped on Matsya's fattened cattle like the hawk upon its prey!
Bhishma, Drona, peerless Karna, led the Kuru warriors brave,
Swept the kingdom of Virata like the ocean's surging wave,
Fell upon the trembling cowherds, chased them from the pasture-field,
Sixty thousand head of cattle was the Matsya country's yield!
And the wailing chief of cowherds fled forlorn, fatigued and spent,
Speeding on his rapid chariot to the royal city went,
Came inside the city portals, came within the palace gate,
Struck his forehead in his anguish and bewailed his luckless fate.
Meeting there the prince Uttara, youth of beauty and of fame,
Told him of the Kurus' outrage and lamented Matsya's shame:
Sixty thousand head of cattle, bred of Matsya's finest breed,
To Hastina's distant empire do the Kuru chieftains lead,
Glory of the Matsya nation! save thy father's valued kine,
Quick thy footsteps, strong thy valour, vengeance deep and dire be thine!
'Gainst the fierce Trigarta chieftains Matsya's warlike king is gone,
Thee we count our lord and saviour as our monarch's gallant son,
Rise, Uttara! beat the Kurus, homeward lead the stolen kine,
Like an elephant of jungle, pierce the Kurus' shattered line!
As the Vina speaketh music, by musicians tuned aright,
Let thy sounding bow and arrows speak thy deeds of matchless might,
Harness quick thy milk-white coursers to thy sounding battle-car,
Hoist thy golden lion-banner, speed thee, prince, unto the war!
And as thunder-wielding INDRA smote Asuras fierce and bold,
Smite the Kurus with thy arrows winged with plumes of yellow gold
As the famed and warlike Arjun is the stay of Kuru's race,
Thou art refuge of the Matsyas and thy kingdom's pride and grace!"
But the prince went not to battle from the foe to guard the State,
To the cowherd answered gaily, sheltered by the palace gate:
"Not unknown to me the usage of the bow and wingéd dart,
Not unknown the warrior's duty or the warrior's noble art,
I would win my father's cattle from the wily foeman's greed,
If a skilful chariot-driver could my fiery coursers lead.
For my ancient chariot-driver died on battle's gory plain,
Eight and twenty days we wrestled, many warlike chiefs were slain,
Bring me forth a skilful driver who can urge the battle-steed,
I will hoist my lion-banner, to the dubious battle speed.
Dashing through the foeman's horses, ranks of elephant and car,
I will win the stolen cattle rescued in the field of war,
And like thunder-wielding INDRA, smiting Danu's sons of old,
I will smite the Kuru chieftains, drive them to their distant hold!
Bhishma and the proud Duryodhan, archer Karna known to fame,
Drona too shall quail before me and retreat in bitter shame,
For those warriors in my absence Matsya's far-famed cattle steal,
But beneath my countless arrows Matsya's vengeance they shall feel,
Bring me forth a chariot-driver, let me speed my battle-car,
And in wonder they will question-Is this Arjun famed in war?

II

THE DISGUISED CHARIOTEER

Arjun, guised as Brihannala, heard the boast Uttara made,
And to try his skill and valour thus to fair Draupadi prayed:
"Say to him that Brihannala will his battle-chariot lead,
That as Arjun's chariot-driver he hath learned to urge the steed,
Say that faithful Brihannala many a dubious war hath seen,
And will win his father's cattle in this contest fierce and keen."
Fair Draupadi, guised as menial, Arjun's secret best obeyed,
Humbly stepped before Uttara and in gentle accents prayed:
"Hear me, prince, yon Brihannala will thy battle-chariot lead,
He was Arjun's chariot-driver, skilled to urge the flying steed,
Trained in war by mighty Arjun, trained to drive the battle-car,
He hath followed helméd Arjun in the glorious field of war,
And when Arjun conquered Khandav, this, Uttara, I have seen,
Brihannala drove his chariot, for I served Yudhishthir's queen."
Heard Uttara hesitating, spake his faint and timid mind,
"I would trust thee, beauteous maiden, lotus-bosomed, ever kind,
But a poor and sexless creature, can he rein the warlike steed,
Can I ask him, worse than woman, in the battle's ranks to lead?
"Need is none," Draupadi answered, "Brihannala's grace to ask,
He is eager like the war-horse for this great and warlike task,
And he waits upon thy sister, she will bid the minion speed,
And he wins thy father's cattle, and the victor's glorious meed!"
Matsya's princess spake to Arjun, Arjun led the battle-car,
Led the doubting prince Uttara to the dread and dubious war.

III

ARMS AND WEAPONS

Arjun drove the prince of Matsya to a darksome sami tree,
Spake unto the timid warrior in his accents bold and free:
Prince, thy bow and shining arrows, pretty handsome toys are these,
Scarcely they beseem a warrior, and a warrior cannot please,
Thou shalt find upon this sami, mark my words which never fail,
Stately bows and wingéd arrows, banners, swords and coats of mail,
And a bow which strongest warriors scarce can in the battle bend,
And the limits of a kingdom widen when that bow is strained,
Tall and slender like a palm-tree, worthy of a warrior bold,
Smooth the wood of hardened fibre, and the ends are yellow gold!"
Doubting still Uttara answered: "In this sami's gloomy shade
Corpses hang since many seasons in their wrappings duly laid,
Now I mark them all suspended, horrent, in the open air,
And to touch the unclean objects, friend, is more than I can dare!"
"Fear not warrior," Arjun answered, "for the tree conceals no dead,
Warriors' weapons, cased like corpses, lurk within its gloomy shade,
And I ask thee, prince of Matsya, not to touch an unclean thing,
But unto a chief and warrior weapons and his arms to bring."
Prince Uttara gently lighted, climbed the dark and leafy tree,
Arjun from the prince's chariot bade him speed the arms to free,
And the young prince cut the wrappings; lo! the shining bows appear
Twisted, voiced like hissing serpents, like the bright stars glistening clear!
Seized with wonder prince Uttara silently the weapons eyed,
And unto his chariot-driver thus in trembling accents cried:
"Whose this bow so tall and stately, speak to me my gentle friend,
On the wood are golden bosses, tipped with gold is either end,
Whose this second ponderous weapon stout and massive in the hold,
On the staff are worked by artists elephants of burnished gold,
And what great and mighty monarch owns this other bow of might,
Set with golden glittering insects on its ebon back so bright,
Golden suns of wondrous brightness on this fourth their lustre lend,
Who may be the unknown archer who this stately bow can bend,
And the fifth is set with jewels, gems and stones of purest ray,
Golden fire-flies glint and sparkle in the yellow light of day!
Who doth own these shining arrows with their heads in gold encased
Thousand arrows bright and feathered in the golden quivers placed:
Next are these with vulture-feather, golden-yellow in their hue,
Made of iron keen and whetted, whose may be these arrows true,
Next upon this sable quiver jungle tigers gleam in gold,
And these keen and boar-eared arrows speak some chieftains fierce and bold,
Fourth are these seven hundred arrows, crescent in their shining blade,
Thirsting for the blood of foemen and by cunning artists made,
And the fifth are golden-crested, made of tempered steel and bright,
Parrot feathers wing these arrows whetted and of wondrous might!
Hark again this wondrous sabre, shape of toad is on the hilt,
On the blade a toad is given and the scabbard nobly gilt,
Larger, stouter is this second in its sheath of tiger-skin,
Decked with bells and gold-surmounted and the blade is bright and keen,
Next this scimitar so curious by the skilled Nishadas made,
Scabbard made of wondrous cowhide sheathes the bright and polished blade,
Fourth, a long and beauteous weapon glittering sable in its hue,
With its sheath of softer goat-skin worked with gold on azure blue,
And the fifth is broad and massive over thirty fingers long,
Golden-sheathed and gold embosséd like a snake or fiery tongue!
Joyously responded Arjun: "Mark this bow embossed with gold.
'Tis the wondrous bow, Gandiva, worthy of a warrior bold,
Gift of heaven! to archer Arjun kindly gods this weapon sent,
And the confines of a kingdom widen when the bow is bent,
Next, this mighty ponderous weapon worked with elephants of gold,
With this bow the stalwart Bhima hath the tide of conquests rolled,
And the third with golden insects by a cunning hand inlaid,
'Tis Yudhishthir's royal weapon by the noblest artists made,
Next the bow with solar lustre brave Nakula wields in fight,
And the fifth is Sahadeva's, decked with gems and jewels bright
Mark again these thousand arrows, unto Arjun they belong,
And the darts whose blades are crescent unto Bhima brave and strong,
Boar-ear shafts are young Nakula's, in the tiger-quiver eased,
Sahadeva owns the arrows with the parrots feather graced,
These three-knotted shining arrows, thick and yellow vulture-plumed.
They belong to King Yudhishthir, with their heads by gold illumed!
Listen more, if of these sabres, prince of Matsya, thou wouldst know,
Arjun's sword is toad-engraven, ever dreaded by the foe,
And the sword in tiger-scabbard, massive and of mighty strength,
None save tiger-waisted Bhima wields that sword of wondrous length,
Next the sabre golden-hilted, sable and with gold embossed,
Brave Yudhishthir kept that sabre when the king his kingdom lost,
Yonder sword with goat-skin scabbard brave Nakula wields in war,
In the cowhide Sahadeva keeps his shining scimitar!"
"Strange thy accents," spake Uttara, "stranger are the weapons bright,
Are they arms of sons of Pandu famed on earth for matchless might,
Where are now those pious princes by a dire misfortune crossed,
Warlike Arjun, good Yudhishthir, by his subjects loved and lost,
Where is tiger-waisted Bhima, matchless fighter in the field,
And the brave and twin-born brothers skilled the arms of war to wield?
O'er a game they lost their empire and we heard of them no more,
Or perchance they lonesome wander on some wild and distant shore,
And Draupadi noble princess, purest best of womankind,
Doth she wander with Yudhishthir, changeless in her heart and mind?"
Proudly answered valiant Arjun, and a smile was on his face,
Not in distant lands the brothers do their wandering footsteps trace,
In thy father's court disguiséd lives Yudhishthir just and good,
Bhima in thy father's palace as a cook prepares the food,
Brave Nakula guards the horses, Sahadeva tends the kine,
As thy sister's waiting-woman doth the fair Draupadi shine,
Pardon, prince, these rings and bangles, pardon strange unmanly guise,
'Tis no poor and sexless creature,--Arjun greets thy wondering eyes!"

IV

RESCUE OF THE CATTLE

Arjun decked his mighty stature in the gleaming arms of war,
And with voice of distant thunder rolled the mighty battle-car,
And the Kurus marked with wonder Arjun's standard lifted proud.
Heard with dread the deep Gandiva sounding oft and sounding loud,
And they knew the wondrous bowman, wheeling round the battle-car,
And with doubts and grave misgivings whispered Drona skilled in war:
"That is Arjun's monkey-standard, how it greets my ancient eyes,
Well the Kurus know the standard like a comet in the skies,
Hear ye not the deep Gandiva? How my ear its accents greet,
Mark ye not these pointed arrows falling prone before my feet,
By these darts his salutation to his teacher loved of old,
Years of exile now completed, Arjun sends with greetings bold!
How the gallant prince advances! Now I mark his form and face,
Issuing from his dark concealment with a brighter, haughtier grace,
Well I know his bow and arrows and I know his standard well,
And the deep and echoing accents of his fax-resounding shell,
In his shining arms accoutred, gleaming in his helmet dread,
Shines he like the flame of homa by libations duly fed!"
Arjun marked the Kuru warriors arming for th' impending war,
Whispered thus to prince Uttara as he drove the battle-car:
"Stop thy steeds, O prince of Matsya! for too close we may not go,
Stop thy chariot whence, my arrows reach and slay the distant foe,
Seek we out the Kuru monarch, proud Duryodhan let us meet,
If he falls we win the battle, other chieftains will retreat.
There is Drona my preceptor, Drona's warlike son is there,
Kripa and the mighty Bhishma, archer Karna, tall and fair,
Them I seek not in this battle, lead, O lead thy chariot far,
Midst the chiefs Duryodhan moves not, moves not in the ranks of war,
But to save the pilfered cattle speeds he onward in his fear,
While these warriors stay and tarry to defend their monarch's rear,
But I leave these car-borne warriors, other work to-day is mine,
Meet Duryodhan in the battle, win thy father's stolen kine!"
Matsya's prince then turned the courses, left behind the war's array,
Where Duryodhan with the cattle quickly held his onward way,
Kripa marked the course of Arjun, guessed his inmost thought aright,
Thus he spake to brother warriors urging speed and instant fight:
"Mark ye, chieftains, gallant Arjun wheels his sounding battle-car,
'Gainst our prince and proud Duryodhan seeks to turn the tide of war,
Let us fall upon our foeman and our prince and leader save,
Few save INDRA, god of battles, conquers Arjun fierce and brave,
What were Matsya's fattened cattle, many thousands though they be,
If our monarch sinks in battle like a ship in stormy sea!"
Vain were Kripa's words of wisdom, Arjun drove the chariot fair,
While his shafts like countless locusts whistled through the ambient air,
Kuru soldiers struck with panic neither stood and fought, nor fled,
Gazed upon the distant Arjun, gazed upon their comrades dead!
Arjun twanged his mighty weapon, blew his far-resounding shell,
Strangely spake his monkey-standard, Kuru warriors knew it well,
Sankha's voice, Gandiva's accents, and the chariot's booming sound,
Filled the air like distant thunder, shook the firm and solid ground.
Kuru soldiers fled in terror or they slumbered with the dead,
And the rescued lowing cattle with their tails uplifted fled!

V

WARRIOR'S GUERDON

Now with joy the king Virata to his royal city came,
Saw the rescued herds of cattle, saw Uttara prince of fame,
Marked the great and gallant Arjun, helmet-wearing, armour-cased
Knew Yudhishthir and his brothers now as royal princes dressed,
And he greeted good Yudhishthir, truth-beloving brave and strong
And to valiant Arjun offered Matsya's princess fair and young!
"Pardon, monarch," answered Arjun, "but I may not take as bride
Matsya's young and beauteous princess whom I love with father's pride,
She hath often met me trusting in the inner palace hall,
As a daughter on a father waited on my loving call!
I have trained her kokil accents, taught her maiden steps in dance,
Watched her skill and varied graces all her native charms enhance,
Pure is she in thought and action, spotless as my hero boy,
Grant her to my son, O monarch, as his wedded wife and joy!
Abhimanyu trained in battle, handsome youth of godlike face,
Krishna's sister, fair Subhadra, bore the child of princely grace,
Worthy of thy youthful daughter, pure in heart and undefiled,
Grant it, sire, my Abhimanyu wed thy young and beauteous child!"
Answered Matsya's noble monarch with a glad and grateful heart:
Words like these befit thy virtue, nobly hast thou done thy part,
Be it as thou sayest, Arjun, unto Pandu's race allied,
Matsya's royal line is honoured, Matsya's king is gratified!"

VI

THE WEDDING

Good Yudhishthir heard the tidings and he gave his free assent,
Unto distant chiefs and monarchs kindly invitations sent,
In the town of Upa-plavya, of fair Matsya's towns the best,
Made their home the pious brothers to receive each royal guest.
Came unto them Kasi's monarch and his arméd troopers came,
And the king of fair Panchala with his sons of warlike fame,
Came the sons of fair Draupadi early trained in art of war,
Other chiefs and sacrifices came from regions near and far.
Krishna decked in floral garlands with his elder brother came,
And his sister fair Subhadra, Arjun's loved and longing dame,
Arjun's son brave Abhimanyu came upon his flowery car,
With his elephants and chargers, troopers trained in art of war.
Vrishnis from the sea-girt Dwarka, bravo Andhakas known to fame,
Bhojas from the mighty Chumbal with the righteous Krishna came,
He to gallant sons of Pandu made his presents rich and rare,
Gems and gold and costly garments, slaves and damsels passing fair.
With its quaint and festive greetings came at last the bridal day,
Matsya maids were merry-hearted, Pandu's sons were bright and gay,
Conch and cymbal, horn and trumpet spake forth music soft and sweet
In Virata's royal palace, in the peopled mart and street!
And they slay the jungle red-deer, and they spread the ample board,
And prepare the cooling palm-drink with the richest viands stored,
Mimes and actors please the people, bards recite the ancient song,
Glories of heroic houses minstrels by their lays prolong!
And deep-bosomed dames of Matsya, jasmine-form and lotus-face,
With their pearls and golden garlands joyously the bridal grace,
Circled by those royal ladies, though they all are bright and fair,
Brightest shines the fair Draupadi with a beauty rich and rare,
Stately dames and merry maidens lead the young and soft-eyed bride,
As the queens of gods encircle INDRA'S daughter in her pride!
Arjun from the Matsya monarch takes the princess passing fair,
For his son by fair Subhadra, nursed by Krishna's loving care,
With a godlike grace Yudhishthir stands by faithful Arjun's side,
As a father takes a daughter, takes the young and beauteous bride,
Joins her hands to Abhimanyu's, and with cake and parchéd rice,
On the altar brightly blazing doth the holy sacrifice.
Matsya's monarch on the bridegroom rich and costly presents pressed,
Elephants he gave two hundred, steeds seven thousand of the best,
Poured libations on the altar, on the priests bestowed his gold,
Offered to the sons of Pandu rich domain and wealth untold.
With a pious hand Yudhishthir, true in heart and pure in mind,
Made his gifts, in gold and garments, kine and wealth of every kind,
Costly chariots, beds of splendour, robes with thread of gold belaced.
Viands rich and sweet confection, drinks the richest and the best,
Lands he gave unto the Brahman, bullocks to the labouring swain,
Steeds he gave unto the warrior, to the people gifts and grain.
And the city of the Matsyas, teeming with a wealth untold.
Shone with festive joy and gladness and with flags and cloth of gold.

MAHABHARATA BOOK VII

UDYOGA

(The Council of War)

THE term of banishment having expired, Yudhishthir demanded that the kingdom of Indra-prastha should be restored to him. The old Dhrita-rashtra and his queen and the aged and virtuous councillors advised the restoration, but, the jealous Duryodhan hated his cousins with a genuine hatred, and would not cement. All negotiations were therefore futile, and preparations were made on both sides for the most sanguinary and disastrous battle that bad ever been witnessed in Northern India.
The portions translated in this Book are from Sections i., ii. iii., xciv., cxxiv., and exxvi. of Book v. of the original text.

I

KRISHNA'S SPEECH

Mirth and song and nuptial music waked the echoes of the night,
Youthful bosoms throbbed with pleasure, lovelit glances sparkled bright,
But when young and white-robed USHAS ope'd the golden gates of day,
To Virata's council chamber chieftains thoughtful held their way,
Stones inlaid in arch and pillar glinted in the glittering dawn,
Gay festoons and graceful garlands o'er the golden cushions shone!
Matsya's king, Panchala's monarch, foremost seats of honour claim,
Krishna too and Valadeva, Dwarka's chiefs of righteous fame,
By them sate the bold Satyaki from the sea-girt western shore,
And the godlike sons of Pandu,--days of dark concealment o'er,
Youthful princes in their splendour graced Virata's royal hall,
Valiant sons of valiant fathers, brave in war, august and tall,
In their gem-bespangled garments came the warriors proud and high,
Till the council chamber glittered like the star-bespangled sky
Kind the greetings, sweet the converse, soft the golden moments fly,
Till intent on graver questions all on Krishna turn their eye,
Krishna with his inner vision then the state of things surveyed,
And his thoughts before the monarchs thus in weighty accents laid.
"Known to all, ye mighty monarchs! May your glory ever last,
'True to plighted word Yudhishthir hath his weary exile passed,
Twelve long years with fair Draupadi in the pathless jungle strayed,
And a year in menial service in Virata's palace stayed,
He hath kept his plighted promise, braved affliction, woe, and shame,
And he begs, assembled monarchs, ye shall now his duty name.
For he swerveth not from duty kingdom of the sky to win,
Prizeth hamlet more than empire, so his course be free from sin,
Loss of realm and wealth and glory higher virtues in him prove,
Thoughts of peace and not of anger still the good Yudhishthir move!
Mark again the sleepless anger and the unrelenting hate
Harboured by the proud Duryodhan driven by his luckless fate,
From a child, by fire or poison, impious guile or trick of dice,
He hath compassed dark destruction by deceit and low device!
Ponder well, ye gracious monarchs, with a just and righteous mind,
Help Yudhishthir with your counsel, with your grace and blessings kind,
Should the noble son of Pandu seek his right by open war,
Seek the aid of righteous monarchs and of chieftains near and far?
Should he smite his ancient foemen skilled in each deceitful art,
Unforgiving in their vengeance, unrelenting in their heart?
Should he rather send a message to the proud unbending foe,
And Duryodhan's haughty purpose seek by messenger to know?
Should he send a noble envoy, trained in virtue, true and wise,
With his greetings to Duryodhan in a meek and friendly guise?
Ask him to restore the kingdom on the sacred Jumna's shore
Either king may rule his empire as in happy days of yore?"
Krishna uttered words of wisdom pregnant with his peaceful thought,
For in peace and not by bloodshed still Yudhishthir's right he sought.

II

VALADEVA'S SPEECH

Krishna's elder Valadeva, stalwart chief who bore the plough,
Rose and spake, the blood of Vrishnis mantled o'er his lofty brow:
"Ye have listened, pious monarchs, to my brother's gentle word,
Love he bears to good Yudhishthir and to proud Hastina's lord,
For his realm by dark blue Jumna good Yudhishthir held of yore,
Brave Duryodhan ruled his kingdom on the ruddy Ganga's shore,
And once more in love and friendship either prince may rule his share,
For the lands are broad and fertile, and each realm is rich and fair!
Speed the envoy to Hastina with our love and greetings kind,
Let him speak Yudhishthir's wishes, seek to know Duryodhan's mind,
Make obeisance unto Bhishma and to Drona true and bold,
Unto Kripa, archer Karna, and to chieftains young and old,
To the sons of Dhrita-rashtra, rulers of the Kuru land,
Righteous in their kingly duties, stout of heart and strong of hand,
To the princes and to burghers gathered in the council hall,
Let him speak Yudhishthir's wishes, plead Yudhishthir's cause to all.
Speak he not in futile anger, for Duryodhan holds the power,
And Yudhishthir's wrath were folly in this sad and luckless hour,
By his dearest friends dissuaded, but by rage or madness driven,
He hath played and lost his empire, may his folly be forgiven!
Indra-prastha's spacious empire now Duryodhan deems his own,
By his tears and soft entreaty let Yudhishthir seek the throne,
Open war I do not counsel, humbly seek Duryodhan's grace,
War will not restore the empire nor the gambler's loss replace!"
Thus with cold and cruel candour stalwart Valadeva cried,
Wrathful rose the brave Satyaki, fiercely thus to him replied.

III

SATYAKI'S SPEECH

Shame unto the halting chieftain who thus pleads Duryodhan's part,
Timid counsel, Valadeva, speaks a woman's timid heart,
Oft from warlike stock ariseth weakling chief who bends the knee,
As a withered fruitless sapling springeth from a fruitful tree!
From a heart so faint and craven, faint and craven words must flow,
Monarchs in their pride and glory list not to such counsel low,
Couldst thou, impious Valadeva, midst these potentates of fame,
On Yudhishthir pious-hearted cast this undeservéd blame?
Challenged by his wily foeman and by dark misfortune crost,
Trusting to their faith Yudhishthir played a righteous game and lost,
Challenge from a crownéd monarch can a crownéd king decline,
Can a Kshatra warrior fathom fraud in sons of royal line?
Nathless he surrendered empire true to faith and plighted word,
Lived for years in pathless forests Indra-prastha's mighty lord,
Past his years of weary exile, now he claims his realm of old,
Claims it, not as humble suppliant, but as king and warrior bold,
Past his year of dark concealment, bold Yudhishthir claims his own,
Proud Duryodhan now must render Indra-prastha's jewelled throne!
Bhishma counsels, Drona urges, Kripa. pleads for right in vain,
False Duryodhan will not render sinful conquest, fraudful gain,
Open war I therefore counsel, ruthless and relentless war,
Grace we seek not when we meet them speeding in our battle car!
And our weapons, not entreaties, shall our foemen force to yield,
Yield Yudhishthir's rightful kingdom or they perish on the field,
False Duryodhan and his forces fall beneath our battle's shock,
As beneath the bolt of thunder falls the crushed and riven rock!
Who shall meet the helméd Arjun in the gory field of war,
Krishna with his fiery discus mounted on his battle-car,
Who shall face the twin-born brothers by the mighty Bhima led,
And the vengeful chief Satyaki with his bow and arrows dread?
Ancient Drupad wields his weapon peerless in the field of fight,
And his brave son, born of AGNI, owns an all-consuming might,
Abhimanyu, son of Arjun, whom the fair Subhadra bore,
And whose happy nuptials brought us from far Dwarka's sea-girt shore,
Men on earth nor bright Immortals can the youthful hero face,
When with more than Arjun's prowess Abhimanyu leads the race!
Dhrita-rashtra's sons we conquer and Gandhara's wily son,
Vanquish Karna though world-honoured for his deeds of valour done,
Win the fierce-contested battle and redeem Yudhishthir's own,
Place the exile pious-hearted on his father's ancient throne!
And no sin Satyaki reckons slaughter of the mortal foe,
But to beg a grace of foemen were a mortal sin and woe,
Speed we then unto our duty, let our impious foemen yield,
Or the fiery son of Sini meets them on the battle-field!"

IV

DRUPAD'S SPEECH

Fair Panchala's ancient monarch rose his secret thoughts to tell,
From his lips the words of wisdom with a graceful accent fell:
"Much I fear thou speakest truly, hard is Kuru's stubborn race,
Vain the hope, the effort futile, to beseech Duryodhan's grace
Dhrita-rashtra pleadeth vainly, feeble is his fitful star,
Ancient Bhishma, righteous Drona, cannot stop this fatal war,
Archer Karna thirsts for battle, moved by jealousy and pride,
Deep Sakuni, false and wily, still supports Duryodhan's side!
Vain is Valadeva's counsel, vainly shall our envoy plead,
Half his empire proud Duryodhan yields not in his boundless greed,
In his pride he deems our mildness faint and feeble-hearted fear,
And our suit will fan his glory and his arrogance will cheer!
Therefore let our many heralds travel near and travel far,
Seek alliance of all monarchs in the great impending war,
Unto brave and noble chieftains, unto nations east and west
North and south to warlike races speed our message and request!
Meanwhile peace and offered friendship we before Duryodhan place,
And my priest will seek Hastina, strive to win Duryodhan's grace,
If he renders Indra-prastha, peace will crown the happy land,
Or our troops will shake the empire from the east to western strand!"
Vainly were Panchala's Brahmans sent with messages of peace,
Vainly urged the Kuru elders that the fatal feud should cease,
Proud Duryodhan to his kinsmen would not yield their proper share,
Pandu's sons would not surrender, for they had the will to dare!
Fatal war and dire destruction did the mighty gods ordain,
Till the kings and arméd nations strewed the red and reeking plain,
Krishna in his righteous effort sought for wisdom from above,
Strove to stop the war of nations and to end the feud in love,
And to far Hastina's palace Krishna went to sue for peace,
Raised his voice against the slaughter, begged that strife and feud should cease!

V

KRISHNA'S SPEECH AT HASTINA

Silent sat the listening chieftains in Hastina's council hall,
With the voice of rolling thunder Krishna spake unto them all:
"Listen, mighty Dhrita-rashtra, Kuru's great and ancient king,
Seek not war and death of kinsmen, word of peace and love I bring!
'Midst the wide earth's many nations Bharats in their worth excel,
Love and kindness, spotless virtue, in the Kuru-elders dwell,
Father of the noble nation, now retired from life's turmoil,
Ill beseems that sin or untruth should thy ancient bosom soil!
For thy sons in impious anger seek to do their kinsmen wrong,
And withhold the throne and kingdom which by right to them belong,
And a danger thus ariseth like the comet's baleful fire,
Slaughtered kinsmen, bleeding nations, soon shall feed its fatal ire!
Stretch thy hands, O Kuru monarch! prove thy truth and holy grace,
Man of peace! avert the slaughter and preserve thy ancient race.
Yet restrain thy fiery children, for thy mandates they obey,
I with sweet and soft persuasion Pandu's truthful sons will sway.
'Tis thy profit, Kuru monarch! that the fatal feud should cease,
Brave Duryodhan, good Yudhishthir, rule in unmolested peace,
Pandu's sons are strong in valour, mighty in their arméd hand,
INDRA shall not shake thy empire when they guard the Kuru land!
Bhishma is thy kingdom's bulwark, doughty Drona rules the war,
Karna matchless with his arrows, Kripa peerless in his car,
Let Yudhishthir and stout Bhima by these noble warriors stand,
And let helmet-wearing Arjun guard the sacred Kuru land,
Who shall then contest thy prowess from the sea to farthest sea,
Ruler of a worldwide empire, king of kings and nations free?
Sons and grandsons, friends and kinsmen, will surround thee in a ring,
And a race of loving heroes guard their ancient hero-king,
Dhrita-rashtra's lofty edicts will proclaim his boundless sway,
Nations work his righteous mandates and the kings his will obey!
If this concord be rejected and the lust of war prevail,
Soon within these ancient chambers will resound the sound of wail,
Grant thy children be victorious and the sons of Pandu slain,
Dear to thee are Pandu's children, and their death must cause thee pain!
But the Pandavs skilled in warfare are renowned both near and far,
And thy race and children's slaughter will methinks pollute this war,
Sons and grandsons, loving princes, thou shalt never see again,
Kinsmen brave and car-borne chieftains will bedeck the gory plain!
Ponder yet, O ancient monarch! Rulers of each distant State,
Nations from the farthest regions gather thick to court their fate,
Father of a righteous nation! Save the princes of the land,
On the armed and fated nations stretch, old man, thy saving hand!
Say the word, and at thy bidding leaders of each hostile race
Not the gory field of battle but the festive board will grace,
Robed in jewels, decked in garlands, they will quaff the ruddy wine,
Greet their foes in mutual kindness, bless thy holy name and thine!
Think, O man of many seasons! When good Pandu left this throne,
And his helpless loving orphans thou didst cherish as thine own,
'Twas thy helping steadying fingers taught their infant steps to fame,
'Twas thy loving gentle accents taught their lips to lisp each name,
As thine own they grew and blossomed, dear to thee they yet remain,
Take them back unto thy bosom, be a father once again!
Unto thee, O Dhrita-rashtra! Pandu's sons in homage bend,
And a loving peaceful message through my willing lips they send:
Tell our monarch, more than father, by his sacred stern command
We have lived in pathless jungle, wandered far from land to land,
True unto our plighted promise, for we ever felt and knew,
To his promise Dhrita-rashtra cannot, will not be untrue!
Years of anxious toil are over and of woe and bitterness,
Years of waiting and of watching, years of danger and distress.
Like a dark unending midnight hung on us this age forlorn,
Streaks of hope and dawning brightness usher now the radiant morn!
Be unto us as a father, loving not inspired by wrath,
Be unto us as a teacher, pointing us the righteous path,
If perchance astray we wander, thy strong arm shall lead aright,
If our feeble bosom fainteth, help us with a father's might!
This, O king! the soft entreaty Pandu's sons to thee have made,
These are words the sons of Pandu unto Kuru's king have said,
Take their love, O gracious monarch! Let thy closing days be fair,
Let Duryodhan keep his kingdom, let the Pandavs have their share.
Call to mind their noble suffering, for the tale is dark and long
Of the outrage they have suffered, of the insult and the wrong,
Exiled into Varnavata, destined unto death by flame,
For the gods assist the righteous, they with added prowess came,
Exiled into Indra-prastha, by their toil and by their might
Cleared a forest, built a city, did the rajasuya rite,
Cheated of their realm and empire and of all they called their own,
In the jungle they have wandered and in Matsya lived unknown,
Once more quelling every evil they are stout of heart and hand,
Now redeem thy plighted promise and restore their throne and land!
Trust me, mighty Dhrita-rashtra! trust me, lords who grace this hall,
Krishna pleads for peace and virtue, blessings unto you and all,
Slaughter not the arméd nations, slaughter not thy kith and kin,
Mark not, king, thy closing winters with the bloody stain of sin,
Let thy sons and Pandu's children stand beside thy ancient throne,
Cherish peace and cherish virtue, for thy days are almost done!"

VI

BHISHMA'S SPEECH

From the monarch's ancient bosom sighs and sobs convulsive broke,
Bhishma wiped his manly eyelids and to proud Duryodhan spoke:
"Listen, prince, for righteous Krishna counsels love and holy peace,
Listen, youth, and may thy fortune with thy passing years increase!
Yield to Krishna's words of wisdom, for thy weal he nobly strives,
Yield and save thy friends and kinsmen, save thy cherished subjects' lives,
Foremost race in all this wide earth is Hastina's royal line,
Bring not on them dire destruction by a sinful act of thine!
Sons and fathers, friends and brothers, shall in mutual conflict die
Kinsmen slain by dearest kinsmen shall upon the red field lie,
Hearken unto Krishna's counsel, unto wise Vidura's word,
Be thy mother's fond entreaty and thy father's mandate heard!
Tempt not wrath and fiery vengeance on thy old heroic race,
Tread not in the path of darkness, seek the path of light and grace,
Listen to thy king and father, he hath Kuru's empire graced,
Listen to thy queen and mother, she hath nursed thee on her breast!"

VII

DRONA'S SPEECH

Out spake Drona priest and warrior, and his words were few and high,
Clouded was Duryodhan's forehead, wrathful was Duryodhan's eye:
"Thou hast heard the holy counsel which the righteous Krishna said,
Ancient Bhishma's voice of warning thou hast in thy bosom weighed,
Peerless in their godlike wisdom are these chiefs in peace or strife,
Truest friends to thee, Duryodhan, pure and sinless in their life!
Take their counsel, and thy kinsmen fasten in the bonds of peace,
May the empire of the Kurus and their warlike fame increase,
List unto thy old preceptor! Faithless is thy fitful star,
And they feed thy passions falsely, those who urge and counsel war!
Crownéd kings and arméd nations will contest for thee in vain,
Vainly brothers, sons, and kinsmen will for thee their lifeblood drain,
For the victor's crown and glory never, never can be thine,
Krishna conquers, and brave Arjun! mark these deathless words of mine!
I have trained the youthful Arjun, seen him bend the warlike bow,
Marked him charge the hostile forces, marked him smite the scattered foe.
Fiery son of Jamadagni owned no greater loftier might,
Breathes on earth no mortal warrior conquers Arjun in the fight!
Krishna too, in war resistless, comes from Dwarka's distant shore,
And the bright-gods quake before him whom the fair Devaki bore,
These are foes thou may'st not conquer, take an ancient warrior's word,
Act thou as thy heart decideth, thou art Kuru's king and lord!"

VIII

VIDURA'S SPEECH

Then in gentler voice Vidura sought his pensive mind to tell,
From his lips serene and softly words of woe and anguish fell:
"Not for thee I grieve, Duryodhan, slain by vengeance fierce and keen,
For thy father weeps my bosom and the aged Kuru queen!
Sons and grandsons, friends and kinsmen slaughtered in this fatal war,
Homeless, cheerless, on this wide earth they shall wander long and far,
Friendless, kinless, on this wide earth whither shall they turn and fly,
Like some birds bereft of plumage, they shall pine awhile and die,
Of their race and sad survivors they shall wander o'er the earth,
Curse the fatal day, Duryodhan, saw thy sad and woeful birth!

IX

DHRITA-RASHTRA'S SPEECH

Tear-drops filled his sightless eyeballs, anguish shook his agéd frame,
As the monarch soothed Duryodhan by each fond endearing name:
"Listen, dearest son, Duryodhan, shun this dark and fatal strife,
Cut not grief and death's black shadows on thy parents' closing life,
Krishna's heart is pure and spotless, true and wise the words he said,
We may win a worldwide empire with the noble Krishna's aid,
Seek the friendship of Yudhishthir loved of righteous gods above,
And unite the scattered Kurus by the lasting tie of love!
Now at full is tide of fortune, never may it come again,
Strive and win, or ever after all repentance may be vain.
Peace is righteous Krishna's counsel and he comes to offer peace,
Take the offered boon, Duryodhan! Let all strife and hatred cease!"

X

DURYODHAN'S SPECH

Silent sat the proud Duryodhan wrathful in the council hall,
Spake to mighty-arméd Krishna and to Kuru warriors all:
"Ill becomes thee, Dwarka's chieftain, in the paths of sin to move,
Bear for me a secret hatred, for the Pandavs secret love,
And my father, wise Vidura, ancient Bhishma, Drona bold,
Join thee in this bitter hatred, turn on me their glances cold!
What great crime or darkening sorrow shadows o'er my bitter fate,
That ye chiefs and Kuru's monarch mark Duryodhan for your hate,
Speak, what nameless guilt or folly, secret sin to me unknown,
Turns from me your sweet affection, father's love that was my own?
If Yudhishthir, fond of gambling, played a heedless reckless game,
Lost his empire and his freedom, was it then Duryodhan's blame,
And if freed from shame and bondage in his folly played again,
Lost again and went to exile, wherefore doth he now complain?
Weak are they in friends and forces, feeble is their fitful star,
Wherefore then in pride and folly seek with us unequal war,
Shall we, who to mighty INDRA scarce will do the homage due,
Bow to homeless sons of Pandu and their comrades faint and few,
Bow to them while warlike Drona leads us as in days of old,
Bhishma greater than the bright-gods, archer Karna true and bold?
If in dubious game of battle we should forfeit fame and life,
Heaven will ope its golden portals for the Kshatra slain in strife,
If unbending to our foemen we should press the gory plain,
Stingless is the bed of arrows, death for us will have no pain!
For the Kshatra knows no terror of his foeman in the field,
Breaks like hardened forest timber, bonds not, knows not how to yield,
So the ancient sage Matanga of the warlike Kshatra. said,
Save to priest and sage preceptor unto none he bends his head!
Indra-prastha which my father weakly to Yudhishthir gave,
Nevermore shall go unto him while I live and brothers brave,
Kuru's undivided kingdom Dhrita-rashtra rules alone,
Let us sheathe our swords in friendship and the monarch's empire own,
If in past in thoughtless folly once the realm was broke in twain,
Kuru-land is re-united, never shall be split again!
Take my message to my kinsmen, for Duryodhan's words are plain,
Portion of the Kuru empire sons of Pandu seek in vain,
Town nor village, mart nor hamlet, help us righteous gods in heaven,
Spot that needle's point can cover not unto them be given!"

MAHABHARATA BOOK VIII

BHISHMA-BADHA

(Fall of Bhishma)

All negotiations for a peaceful partition of the Kuru kingdom having failed, both parties now prepared for a battle, perhaps the most sanguinary that was fought on the plains of India in the ancient times. It was a battle of nations, for all warlike races in Northern India took a share in it.
Duryodhan's army consisted of his own division, as well as the divisions of ten allied kings. Each allied power is said to have brought one akshauhini troops, and if we reduce this fabulous number to the moderate figure of ten thousand, including horse and foot, cars and elephants, Duryodhan's army including his own division was over a hundred thousand strong.
Yudhishthir had a smaller army, said to have been seven akshauhinis in number, which we may by a similar reduction reckon to be seventy thousand. His father-in-law the king of the Panchalas, and Arjun's relative the king of the Matsyas, were his principal allies. Krishna joined him as his friend and adviser, and as the charioteer of Arjun, but the Vrishnis as a nation had joined Duryodhan.
When the two armies were drawn up in array and faced each other, and Arjun saw his revered elders and dear friends and relations among his foes, he was unwilling to fight. It was on this occasion that Krishna explained to him the great principles of Duty in that memorable work called the Bhagavat-gita which has been translated into so many European languages. Belief in one Supreme Deity is the underlying thought of this work, and ever and anon, as Professor Garbe remarks, "does Krishna revert to the doctrine that for every man, no matter to what caste he may belong, the zealous performance of his duty and the discharge of his obligations is his most important work."
Duryodhan chose the grand old fighter Bhishma as the commander-in-chief of his army, and for ten days Bhishma held his own and inflicted serious loss on Yudhishthir's army. The principal incidents of these ten days, ending with the fall of Bhishma, are narrated in this Book.
This Book is an abridgment of Book vi. of the original text.

I

PANDAVS ROUTED BY BHISHMA

Ushas with her crimson fingers oped the portals of the day,
Nations armed for mortal combat in the field of battle lay,
Beat of drum and blare of trumpet and the sankha's lofty sound,
By the answering cloud repeated, shook the hills and tented ground,
And the voice of sounding weapons which the warlike archers drew,
And the neigh of battle chargers as the arméd horsemen flew,
Mingled with the rolling thunder of each swiftly-speeding car,
And with pealing bells proclaiming mighty elephants of war!
Bhishma led the Kuru forces, strong as Death's resistless flail,
Human chiefs nor bright Immortals could against his might prevail,
Helmet-wearing, gallant Arjun came in pride and mighty wrath,
Held aloft his famed Gandiva, strove to cross the chieftain's path!
Abhimanyu son of Arjun, whom the fair Subhadra bore,
Drove against Kosala's monarch famed in arms and holy lore,
Hurling down Kosala's standard he the dubious combat won,
Barely escaped with life the monarch from the fiery Arjun's son!
With his fated. foe Duryodhan, Bhima strove in deathful war,
And against the proud Duhsasan brave Nakula drove his car,
Sahadeva mighty bowman, then the fierce Durmukha sought,
And the righteous king Yudhishthir with the car-borne Salya fought,
Ancient feud and deathless hatred fired the Brahman warrior bold,
Drona with the proud Panchalas fought once more his feud of old!
Nations from the Eastern regions 'gainst the bold Virata pressed,
Kripa met the wild Kaikeyas hailing from the furthest West,
Drupad proud and peerless monarch with his cohorts onward bore
'Gainst the warlike Jayadratha chief of Sindhu's sounding shore,
Chedis and the valiant Matsyas, nations gathered from afar,
Bhojas and the fierce Kambojas mingled in the dubious war!
Through the day the battle lasted, and no mortal tongue can tell
What unnumbered chieftains perished and what countless soldiers fell.
And the son knew not his father, and the sire knew not his son,
Brother fought against his brother, strange the deeds of valour done!
Horses fell, and shafts of chariots shivered in resistless shock,
Hurled against the foreman's chariots speeding like the rolling rock,
Elephants by mahuts driven furiously each other tore,
Trumpeting with trunks uplifted on the serried soldiers bore!
Ceaseless plied the gallant troopers, with a stern unyielding might,
Pikes and axes, clubs and maces, swords and spears and lances bright,
Horsemen flew as forkéd lightning, heroes fought in shining mail,
Archers poured their feathered arrows like the bright and glistening hail!
Bhishma leader of the Kurus, as declined the dreadful day,
Through the shattered Pandav legions forced his all-resistless way,
Onward went his palm-tree standard through the hostile ranks of war,
Matsyas, Kasis, nor Panchalas faced the mighty Bhishma's car!
But the fiery son of Arjun, filled with shame and bitter wrath,
Turned his car and tawny coursers to obstruct the chieftain's path,
Vainly fought the youthful warrior though his darts were pointed well,
And dissevered from his chariot Bhishma's palm-tree standard fell,
Anger stirred the ancient Bhishma and he rose in all his might,
Abhimanyu pierced with arrows fell and fainted in the fight!
Then to save the son of Arjun, Matsya's gallant princes came,
Brave Uttara, noble Sweta, youthful warriors known to fame,
Ah! too early fell the warriors in that sad and fatal strife,
Matsya's dames and dark-eyed maidens wept the princes' shortened life!
Slain by cruel fate untimely fell two brothers young and good,
Dauntless still the youngest brother, proud and gallant Sankha stood,
But the helmet-wearing Arjun came to stop the victor's path,
And to save the fearless Sankha from the ancient Bhishma's wrath,
Drupad too, Panchala's monarch, swiftly rushed into the fray,
Strove to shield the broken Pandavs and to stop the victor's way.
But as fire consumes the forest, wrathful Bhishma slew the foe,
None could face his sounding chariot and his ever-circled bow,
And the fainting Pandav warriors marked the foe, resistless, bold,
Shook like unprotected cattle tethered in the blighting cold!
Onward came the mighty Bhishma and the slaughter fiercer grew
From his bow like hissing serpents still the glistening arrows flew,
Onward came the ancient warrior and his path was strewn with dead,
And the broken Pandav forces, crushed and driven, scattered fled,
Friendly night and gathering darkness closed the slaughter of the day,
To their tents the sons of Pandu held their sad and weary way!

II

KURUS ROUTED BY ARJUN

Grieved at heart the good Yudhishthir wept the losses of the day,
Sought the aid of gallant Krishna for the morning's fresh array,
And when from the eastern mountains SURYA drove his fiery car,
Bhishma and the helméd Arjun strove to turn the tide of war.
Bhishma's glorious palm-tree standard o'er the field of battle rose,
Arjun's monkey-standard glittered cleaving through the serried foes,
Devas from their cloud-borne chariots, and Gandharvas from the sky,
Gazed in mute and speechless wonder on the human chiefs from high!
While with dauntless valour Arjun still the mighty Bhishma sought,
Warlike prince of fair Panchala with the doughty Drona fought,
Ceaseless 'gainst the proud preceptor sent his darts like summer rain,
Baffled by the skill of Drona, Dhrista-dyumna strove in vain!
But the fiercer darts of Drona pierced the prince's shattered mail,
Hurtling on his battle chariot like an angry shower of hail,
And they rent in twain his bowstring and they cut his pond'rous mace,
Slew his steeds and chariot-driver, streaked with blood his godlike face.
Dauntless still Panchala's hero, springing from his shattered car,
Like a hungry desert lion with his sabre rushed to war,
Dashed aside the darts of Drona with his broad and ample shield,
With his sabre brightly flaming fearless trod the reddened field!
In his fury and his rashness he had fallen on that day,
But the ever-watchful Bhima stopped the proud preceptor's way,
Proud Duryodhan marked with anger Bhima rushing in his car,
And he sent Kalinga's forces to the thickening ranks of war.
Onward came Kalinga's forces with the dark tornado's might,
Dusky chiefs, Nishada warriors, gloomy as the sable night,
Rose the shout of warring nations surging to the battle's fore,
Like the angry voice of tempest and the ocean's troubled roar,
And like darkly rolling breakers ranks of serried warriors flew,
Scarcely in the thickening darkness friends and kin from foemen knew!
Fell the young prince of Kalinga by the wrathful Bhima slain,
But against Kalinga's monarch baffled Bhima fought in vain,
Safely sat the eastern monarch on his howda's lofty seat,
Till upon the giant tusker Bhima sprang with agile feet,
Then he struck with fatal fury, brave Kalinga fell in twain,
Scattered fled his countless forces when they saw their leader slain!
Darkly rolled the tide of battle where Duryodhan's valiant son
Strove against the son of Arjun famed for deeds of valour done,
Proud Duryodhan marked the contest with a father's anxious heart,
Came to save his gallant Lakshman from brave Abhimanyu's dart,
And the helmet-wearing Arjun marked his son among his foes,
Wheeled from far his battle-chariot and in wrath terrific rose!
"Arjun!" "Arjun!" cried the Kurus, and in panic broke and fled,
Steed and tusker turned from battle, soldiers fell among the dead,
Godlike Krishna drove the coursers of resistless Arjun's car,
And the sound of Arjun's sankha rose above the cry of war,
And the voice of his Gandiva spread a terror far and near,
Crushed and broken, faint and frightened, fled the Kurus in their fear,
Onward still through scattered foemen conquering Arjun held his way,
Till the evening's gathering darkness closed the action of the day!

III

BHISHMA AND ARJUN MEET

Anxious was the proud Duryodhan when the golden morning came,
For before the car of Arjun fled each Kuru chief of fame,
Brave Duryodhan shook in anger and a tremor moved his frame
As he spake to ancient Bhishma words of wrath in bitter shame:
"Bhishma! dost thou lead the Kurus in this battle's crimson field,
Warlike Drona, doth he guard us like a broad and ample shield?
Wherefore then before yon Arjun do the valiant Kurus fly,
Wherefore doth our leader linger when he hears the battle cry?
Doth a secret love for Pandavs quell our leader's matchless might,
With a halting zeal for Kurus doth the noble Bhishma fight?
Pardon, chief, if for the Pandavs doth thy partial heart incline,
Yield thy place, let faithful Karna lead my gallant Kuru line!
Anger flamed on Bhishma's forehead and the tear was in his eye,
And in accents few and trembling thus the warrior made reply:
"Vain our toil, unwise Duryodhan! Nor can Bhishma warrior old,
Nor can Drona skilled in weapons, Karna archer proud and bold,
Wash the stain of deeds unholy and of wrongs and outraged laws,
Conquer with a load of cunning 'gainst a right and righteous cause,
Deaf to wisdom's voice, Duryodhan, deaf to parents and to kin,
Thou shalt perish in thy folly, in thy unrepented sin!
For the wrongs and insults offered unto good Yudhishthir's wife,
For the kingdom from him stolen, for the plots against his life,
For the dreadful oath of Bhima, for the holy counsel given,
Vainly given by saintly Krishna, thou art doomed by righteous Heaven!
Meanwhile since he leads thy forces, Bhishma still shall meet his foe,
Or to conquer or to perish to the battle's front I go."
Speaking thus, unto the battle ancient Bhishma held his way,
Sweeping all before his chariot as he swept them day by day,
And the army of Yudhishthir shook from end to farthest end,
Arjun nor the valiant Krishna could against the tide contend!
Cars were shattered, fled the coursers, elephants were pierced and slain.
Shafts of chariots, broken standards, lifeless soldiers strewed the plain,
Coats of mail were left by warriors as they ran with streaming hair,
Soldiers fled like herds of cattle stricken by a sudden fear!
Krishna, Arjun's chariot-driver, and a chief of righteous fame,
Marked the broken Pandav forces, spake in grief and bitter shame:
"Arjun! not in hour of battle hath it been they wont to fly,
Forward lay thy path of glory, or to conquer or to die!
If to-day with angry Bhishma, Arjun shuns the dubious fight,
Shame on Krishna! if he joins thee in this sad inglorious flight,
Be it mine alone, O Arjun! warrior's wonted work to know,
Krishna with his fiery discus smites the all-resistless foe!"
Then he flung the reins to Arjun, left the steeds and sounding car,
Leaped upon the field of battle, rushed into the dreadful war,
"Shame!" cried Arjun in his anger, "Krishna shall not wage the fight,
Nor shall Arjun like a recreant seek for safety in his flight!"
And he dashed behind the warrior and on foot the chief pursued,
Caught him as the angry Krishna still his distant foeman viewed,
Stalwart Arjun lifted Krishna, as the storm lifts up a tree,
Placed him on his battle-chariot and he bent to him his knee:
"Pardon, Krishna, this compulsion, pardon this transgression bold,
But while Arjun lives, O chieftain! weapon of thy wrath withhold!
By my warlike Abhimanyu, fair Subhadra's darling boy,
By my brothers, dearer, truer, than in hours of pride and joy,
By my troth I pledge thee, Krishna,--let thy angry discus sleep,--
Archer Arjun meets his foeman, and his plighted word will keep."
Forthwith rushed the fiery Arjun in his sounding battle-car,
And like waves before him parted serried ranks of hostile war,
Vainly hurled his lance Duryodhan 'gainst the valiant warrior's face,
Vainly Salya, king of Madra, threw with skill his pond'rous mace,
With disdain the godlike Arjun dashed the feeble darts aside,
Hold aloft his famed Gandiva as he stood with haughty pride,
Beat of drum and blare of sankha and the thunder of his car,
And his weapon's fearful accents rose terrific near and far!
Came resistless Pandav forces, sweeping onward wave on wave,
Chedis, Matsyas, and Panchalas, chieftains true and warriors brave,
Onward too came forth the Kurus by the matchless Bhishma led,
Shouts arose and cry of anguish midst the dying and the dead,
But the evening closed in darkness and the night-fires fitful flared,
Fainting troops and bleeding chieftains to their various tents repaired!

IV

DURYODHAN'S EIGHT BROTHERS SLAIN

Dawned another day of battle; Kurus knew that day too well,
Widowed queens of fair Hastina wept before the evening fell,
For as whirlwind of destruction Bhima swept in mighty wrath,
Broke the serried line of tuskers vainly sent to cross his path,
Smote Duryodhan with his arrows, three terrific darts and five,
Smote proud Salya; from the battle scarce they bore the chiefs alive!
Then Duryodhan's fourteen brothers rushed into the dreadful fray,
Fatal was the luckless moment, inauspicious was the day,
Licked his mouth the vengeful Bhima, and he shook his bow and lance,
As the lion lolls his red tongue when he see his prey advance,
Short and fierce the furious combat; six pale princes turned and fled,
Eight of proud Duryodhan's brothers f ell and slumbered with the dead!

V

SATYAKI'S SONS SLAIN

Morning with her fiery radiance oped the portals of the day,
Shone once more on Kuru warriors, Pandav chiefs in dread array,
Bhima and the gallant Arjun. led once more the van of war,
But the proud preceptor Drona faced them in his sounding car!
Still with gallant son of Arjun, Lakshman strove with bow and shield,
Vainly strove; his faithful henchman bore him bleeding from the field,
Lakshman son of proud Duryodhan, Abhimanyu Arjun's son,
Doomed to die in youth and glory 'neath the same revolving sun!
Sad the day for Vrishni warriors! Brave Satyaki's sons of might
'Gainst the cruel Bhuri-sravas strove in unrelenting fight,
Ten brave brothers, pride of Vrishni, fell upon that fatal day,
Slain by mighty Bhuri-sravas on the battle's red field lay!

VI

BHIMA'S DANGER AND RESCUE

Dawned another day of slaughter; heedless Bhima forced his way
Through Duryodhan's serried legions, where dark death and danger lay,
And a hundred foemen gathered and unequal was the strife,
Bhima strove with furious valour, for his forfeit was his life!
Fair Panchala's watchful monarch saw the danger from afar,
Forced his way where bleeding Bhima fought beside his shattered car,
And he helped the fainting warrior, placed him on his chariot-seat,
But the Kurus darkly gathered, surging round as waters meet!
Arjun's son and twelve brave chieftains dashed into the dubious fray,
Rescued Bhima and proud Drupad from the Kurus' grim array,
Surging still the Kuru forces onward came with ceaseless might,
Drona smote the scattered Pandavs till the darksome hours of night!

VII

PANDAVS ROUTED BY BHISHMA

Morning came and angry Arjun rushed into the dreadful war,
Krishna drove his milk-white coursers, onward flew his sounding car,
And before his monkey banner quailed the faint and frightened foes,
Till like star on billowy ocean Bhishma's palm-tree banner rose!
Vainly then the good Yudhishthir, stalwart Bhima, Arjun brave,
Strove with useless toil and valour shattered ranks of war to save,
Vainly too the Pandav brothers on the peerless Bhishma fell,
Gods in sky nor earthly warriors Bhishma's matchless might could quell!
Fell Yudhishthir's lofty standard, shook his chariot battle-tost,
Fell his proud and fiery coursers, and the dreadful day was lost,
Sahadeva and Nakula vainly strove with all their might,
Till their broken scattered forces rested in the shades of night!

VIII

IRAVAT SLAIN

Morning saw the turn of battle; Bhishma's charioteer was slain,
And his coursers uncontrolléd flew across the reddened plain,
Ill it fared with Kuru forces when their leader went astray,
And their foremost chiefs and warriors with the dead and dying lay.
But Gandhara's mounted princes rode across the battle-ground,
For its steeds and matchless chargers is Gandhara's realm renowned,
And to smite the young Iravat fierce Gandhara's princes swore,
Brave Iravat son of Arjun, whom a Naga, princess bore!
Mounted on their milk-white chargers proudly did the princes sweep,
Like the sea-birds skimming gaily o'er the bosom of the deep,
Five of stout Gandhara's princes in that fatal combat fell,
And a sixth in fear and faintness fled the woeful tale to tell!
Short, alas, Iravat's triumph, transient was the victor's joy,
Alumbusha dark and dreadful came against the gallant boy,
Fierce and fateful was the combat, mournful is the tale to tell,
Like a lotus rudely severed gallant son of Arjun fell!
Arjun heard the tale of sorrow and his heart was filled with grief,
And he spake a father's anguish in his accents few and brief:
"Wherefore, Krishna, for a kingdom mingle in this fatal fray,
Kinsmen killed and comrades slaughtered,-dear, alas, the price we pay!
Woe unto Hastina's empire built upon our children's grave,
Dearer than the throne of monarchs was Iravat young and brave,
Young in years and rich in beauty, with thy mother's winsome eye,
Art thou slain, my gallant warrior, and thy father was not nigh?
But thy young blood calls for vengeance! noble Krishna, drive the car,
Let them feel the father's prowess, those who slew the son in war!"
And he dashed the rising tear-drop and his words were few and brief,
Broken ranks and slaughtered chieftains spoke an angry father's grief,
Bhima too revenged Iravat, and as onward still he flew,
Brothers of the proud Duryodhan in that fatal combat slew,
Still advanced the fatal carnage till the darksome close of day,
When the wounded and the weary with the dead and lying lay!

IX

PANDAVS ROUTED BY BHISHMA

Fell the thickening shades of darkness on the red and ghastly plain,
Torches by the white tents flickered, red fires showed the countless slain,
With a bosom sorrow-laden proud Duryodhan drew his breath,
Wept the issue of the battle and his warlike brother's death.
Spent with grief and silent sorrow slow the Kuru monarch went
Where arose in dewy starlight Bhishma's proud and snowy tent,
And with tears and soft entreaty thus the sad Duryodhan spoke,
And his mournful bitter accents oft by heaving sighs were broke:
"Bhishma! on thy matchless prowess Kuru's hopes and fates depend,
Gods nor men with warlike Bhishma can in field of war contend,
Brave in war are sons of Pandu, but they face not Bhishma's might,
In their fierce and deathless hatred slay my brothers in the fight!
Mind thy pledge, O chief of Kurus, save Hastina's royal race,
On the ancient king my father grant thy never-failing grace,
If within thy noble bosom,--pardon cruel words I say,--
Secret love for sons of Pandu holds a soft and partial sway,
If thy inner heart's affection unto Pandu's sons incline,
Grant that Karna lead my forces 'gainst the foeman's hostile line!"
Bhishma's heart was full of sadness and his eyelids dropped a tear,
Soft and mournful were his accents and his vision true and clear:
"Vain, Duryodhan, is this contest, and thy mighty host is vain,
Why with blood of friendly nations drench this red and reeking plain?
They must win who, strong in virtue, fight for virtue's stainless laws,
Doubly armed the stalwart warrior who is armed in righteous cause,
Think, Duryodhan, when Gandharvas took thee captive and a slave,
Did not Arjun rend thy fetters, Arjun righteous chief and brave,
When in Matsya's fields of pasture captured we Virata's kine,
Did not Arjun in his valour beat thy countless force and mine?
Krishna now hath come to Arjun, Krishna drives his battle-car,
Gods nor men can face these heroes in the field of righteous war,
Ruin frowns on thee, Duryodhan, and upon thy impious State,
In thy pride and in thy folly thou hast courted cruel fate,
Bhishma still will do his duty, and his end it is not far,
Then may other chieftains follow,-fatal is this Kuru war!
Dawned a day of mighty slaughter and of dread and deathful war,
Ancient Bhishma, in his anger drove once more his sounding car,
Morn to noon and noon to evening none could f ace the victor's wrath,
Broke and shattered, faint and frightened, Pandavs fled before his path,
Still amidst the dead and dying moved his proud resistless car,
Till the gathering night and darkness closed the horrors of the war!

X

FALL OF BHISHMA

Good Yudhishthir gazed with sorrow on the dark and ghastly plain,
Shed his tears on chiefs and warriors by the matchless Bhishma slain:
"Vain this unavailing battle, vain this woeful loss of life,
'Gainst the death-compelling Bhishma hopeless in this arduous strife!
As a lordly tusker tramples on a marsh of feeble reeds,
As a forest conflagration on the parchéd woodland feeds,
Bhishma tramples on my forces in his mighty battle-car,
God nor mortal chief can face him in the gory field of war!
Vain our toil and vain the valour of our kinsmen loved and lost,
Vainly fight my faithful brothers by a luckless fortune crost,
Nations pour their lifeblood vainly, ceaseless wakes the sound of woe,
Krishna, stop this cruel carnage, unto woods once more we go!"
Sad they held a midnight council and the chiefs in silence met,
And they went to ancient Bhishma, love and mercy to entreat,
Bhishma loved the sons of Pandu with a father's loving heart,
But from troth unto Duryodhan righteous Bhishma would not part!
"Sons of Pandu!" said the chieftain, "Prince Duryodhan is my lord,
Bhishma is no faithless servant nor will break his plighted word,
Valiant are ye, noble princes, but the chief is yet unborn,
While I lead the course of battle, who the tide of war can turn!
Listen more. With vanquished foeman, or who falls or takes to fight,
Casts his weapons, craves for mercy, ancient Bhishma doth not fight,
Bhishma doth not fight a rival who submits, fatigued and worn,
Bhishma doth not fight the wounded, doth not fight a woman born!"
Back unto their tents the Pandavs turn with Krishna deep and wise,
He unto the anxious Arjun thus in solemn whisper cries:
"Arjun, there is hope of triumph! Hath not truthful Bhishma sworn
He will fight no wounded warrior, he will fight no woman born?
Female child was brave Sikhandin, Drupad's youngest son of pride,
Gods have turned him to a warrior, placed. him by Yudhishthir's side,
Place him in the van of battle, mighty Bhishma. leaves the strife,
Then with ease we fight and conquer, and the forfeit is his life!"
"Shame!" exclaimed the angry Arjun, "not in secret heroes fight,
Not behind a child or woman screen their valour and their might,
Krishna, loth is archer Arjun to pursue this hateful strife,
Trick against the sinless Bhishma, fraud upon his spotless life!
Listen, good and noble Krishna; as a child I climbed his knee,
As a boy I called him father, hung upon him lovingly,
Perish conquest dearly purchased by a mean deceitful strife,
Perish crown and jewelled sceptre won with Bhishma's saintly life!"
Gravely answered noble Krishna: "Bhishma falls by close of day,
Victim to the cause of virtue, he himself hath showed the way,
Dear or hated be the foeman, Arjun, thou shalt fight and slay,
Wherefore else the blood of nations hast thou poured from day to day?"
Morning dawned, and mighty Arjun, Abhimanyu young and bold,
Drupad monarch of Panchala, and Virata stern and old,
Brave Yudhishthir and his brothers clad in arms and shining mail,
Rushed to war where Bhishma's standard gleamed slid glittered ill the gale!
Proud Duryodhan marked. their onset and its fatal purpose knew,
And his bravest men and chieftains 'gainst the fiery Pandavs threw,
With Kamboja's stalwart monarch and with Drona's mighty soil,
With the valiant bowman Kripa stemmed the battle still unwon!
And his younger, fierce Duhsasan, thirsting for the deathful war,
'Gainst the helmet-wearing Arjun drew his mighty battle-car,
As the high and rugged mountain meets the angry ocean's sway,
Proud Duhsasan warred with Arjun in his wild and onward way,
And as myriad white-winged sea-birds swoop upon the darksome wave,
Clouds of darts and glistening lances drank the red blood of the brave!
Other warlike Kuru chieftains came, the bravest and the best,
Drona's self and Bhagadatta monarch of the farthest East,
Car-borne Salya mighty warrior, king of Madra's distant land,
Princes from Avanti's regions, chiefs from Malwa's rocky strand,
Jayadratha matchless fighter, king of Sindhu's sounding shore,
Chitrasena and Vikarna, countless chiefs and warriors more!
And they faced the fiery Pandavs peerless in their warlike might,
Long and dreadful raged the combat, darkly closed the dubious fight,
Dust arose like clouds of summer, glistening darts like lightning played,
Darksome grew the sky with arrows, thicker grew the gloomy shade,
Cars went down and mailéd horsemen, soldiers fell in dread array,
Elephants with white tusks broken and with mangled bodies lay!
Arjun and the stalwart Bhima piercing through their countless foes,
Side by side impelled their chariots where the palm-tree standard rose,
Where the peerless ancient Bhishma on that dark and fatal day,
Warring with the banded nations still resistless held his way!
On he came, his palm-tree standard still the front of battle knew,
And like sun from dark clouds parting Bhishma burst on Arjun's view,
And his eyes brave Arjun shaded at the awe-inspiring sight,
Half he wished to turn for shelter from that chief of godlike might!
But bold Krishna drove his chariot, whispered low his fatal plan,
Arjun placed the young Sikhandin in the deathful battle's van,
Bhishma viewed the Pandav forces with a calm unmoving face,
Saw not Arjun's fair Gandiva, saw not Bhima's mighty mace,
Smiled to see the young Sikhandin rushing to the battle's fore,
Like the foam upon the billow when the mighty storm-winds roar!
Bhishma thought of word he plighted and of oath that he had sworn,
Dropped his arms before the warrior who a female child was born,
And the standard which no warrior ever saw in base retreat,
Idly stood upon the chariot, threw its shade on Bhishma's seat,
And the flagstaff fell dissevered on the crushed and broken oar,
As from azure sky of midnight falls the meteor's flaming star!
Not Sikhandin's feeble arrows did the palm-tree standard fell,
Not Sikhandin's feeble lances did the peerless Bhishma quell,
T'rue to oath and unresisting, Bhishma turned his face away,
Turned and fell; the sun declining marked the closing of the day!
Ended thus the fatal battle, truce came with the close of day,
Kurus and the silent Pandavs went where Bhishma dying lay,
Arjun wept as for a father weeps a sad and sorrowing son,
Good Yudhishthir cursed the morning Kuru-kshetra's war begun,
Stood Duryodhan and his brothers mantled in the gloom of grief,
Foes like loving brothers sorrowed round the great the dying chief!
Arjun's keen and pointed arrows made the hero's dying bed,
And in soft and gentle accents to Duryodhan thus he said:
"List unto my words, Duryodhan, uttered with my latest breath,
List to Bhishma's dying counsel and revere the voice of death,
End this dread and deathful battle if thy stony heart can grieve,
Save the chieftains doomed to slaughter, bid the fated nations live.
Grant his kingdom to Yudhishthir righteous man beloved of Heaven
Keep thy own Hastina's regions, be the hapless past forgiven!
Vain, alas, the voice of Bhishma like the voice of angel spoke,
Hatred dearer than his lifeblood in the proud Duryodhan woke!
Darker grew the gloomy midnight and the princes went their way,
On his bed of pointed arrows Bhishma lone and dying lay,
Karna, though he loved not Bhishma whilst the chieftain lived in fame,
Gently to the dying Bhishma in the midnight darkness came!
Bhishma heard the tread of Karna and he oped his glazing eye,
Spake in love and spake in sadness and his bosom heaved a sigh:
"Pride and envy, noble Karna, filled our warlike hearts with strife,
Discord ends with breath departing, envy sinks with fleeting life!
More I have to tell thee, Karna, but my parting breath may fail,
Feeble are my dying accents and my parchéd lips are pale,
Arjun beats not noble Karna in the deeds of valour done,
Nor excels in birth and lineage, Karna, thou art Pritha's son!
Pritha bore thee, still unwedded, and the Sun inspired thy birth,
God-born man! No mightier archer treads this broad and spacious earth,
Pritha cast thee in her sorrow, hid thee with a maiden's shame
And a driver, not thy father, nursed thee, chief of warlike fame,
Arjun is thy brother, Karna, end this sad fraternal war,
Seek not lifeblood of thy brother nor against him drive thy car!"
Vain, alas, the voice of Bhishma like the voice of angel spoke,
Hatred dearer than his life blood in the vengeful Karna woke!

MAHABHARATA BOOK IX

DRONA-BADHA

(Fall of Drona)

ON the fall of Bhishma the Brahman chief Drona, preceptor of the Kuru and Pandav princes, was appointed the leader of the Kuru forces. For five days Drona held his own against the Pandavs, and some of the incidents of these days, like the fall of Abhimanyu and the vengeance of Arjun, are among the most stirring passages in the Epic. The description of the different standards of the Pandav and the Kuru warriors is also interesting. At last Drona slew his ancient foe the king of the Panchalas, and was then slain by his son the prince of the Panchalas.
The Book is an abridgment of Book vii. of the original text.

I

SINGLE COMBAT BETWEEN BHIMA AND SALYA

Morning ushered in the battle; Pandav warriors heard with dread
Drona priest and proud preceptor now the Kuru forces led,
And the foe-compelling Drona pledged his troth and solemn word,
He would take Yudhishthir captive to Hastina's haughty lord!
But the ever faithful Arjun to his virtuous elder bowed,
And in clear and manful accents spake his warlike thoughts aloud:
"Sacred is our great preceptor, sacred is acharya's life,
Arjun may not slay his teacher even in this mortal strife!
Saving this, command, O monarch, Arjun's bow and warlike sword,
For thy safety, honoured elder, Arjun stakes his plighted word,
Matchless in the art of battle is our teacher fierce and dread,
But he comes not to Yudhishthir save o'er blood of Arjun shed!"
Morning witnessed doughty Drona foremost in the battle's tide,
But Yudhishthir's warlike chieftains compassed him on every side,
Foremost of the youthful chieftains came resistless Arjun's son,--
Father's blood and milk of mothers fired his deeds of valour done!
As the lion of the jungle drags the ox into his lair,
Abhimanyu from his chariot draggled Paurava by the hair,
Jayadratha king of Sindhu marked the faint and captive chief,
Leaping from his car of battle wrathful came to his relief,
Abhimanyu left his captive, turned upon the mightier foe,
And with sword and hardened buckler gave and parried many a blow!
Rank to rank from both the forces cry of admiration rose,
Streaming men poured forth in wonder, watched the combat fierce and close,
Piercing Abhimanyu's buckler Jayadratha sent his stroke,
But the turned and twisted sword-blade snapping in the midway broke!
Weaponless the king of Sindhu ran into his sheltering car,
Salya came unto his rescue from a battle-field afar,
Dauntless, on the new assailant Arjun's son his weapon drew,
Interposing 'twixt the fighters Bhima's self on Salya flow!
Stoutest wrestlers in the armies, fiercest fighters with the mace,
Bhima and the stalwart Salya stood as rivals face to face,
Hempen fastening bound their maces and the wire of twisted gold,
Whirling bright in circling flashes, shook their staff the warriors bold!
Oft they struck, and sparks of red fire issued from the seasoned wood,
And like hornéd bulls infuriate Madra's king and Bhima stood,
Closer still they came like tigers closing with their reddened paws,
Or like tuskers with their red tusks, eagles with their rending claws!
Loud as INDRA'S peals of thunder still their blows were echoed round
Rank to rank the startled soldiers heard the oft-repeated sound,
But as strikes in vain the lightning on the solid mountain-rock,
Bhima nor the fearless Salya fell or moved beneath the shook!
Closer drew the watchful heroes and their clubs were wielded well,
Till by many blows belaboured both the fainting fighters fell,
Like a drunkard dazed and reeling Bhima rose his staff to wield,
Senseless Salya, heavy-breathing, henchman carried from the field,
Writhing like a wounded serpent, lifted from the field of war,
He was carried by his soldiers to the shelter of his car!
Drona still with matchless prowess strove to keep his plighted word,
Sought to take Yudhishthir captive to Duryodhan, Kuru's lord,
Vainly then the twin-born brothers came to cross the conqueror's path,
Matsya's lord, Panchala's monarch, vainly faced him in his wrath,
Rank to rank the cry resounded circling o'er the battle-field,
Drona takes Yudhishthir captive with his bow and sword and shield!"
Arjun heard the dreadful message and in haste and fury came,
Strove to save his king and elder and redeem his loyal fame,
Speeding with his milk-white coursers dashed into the thick of war,
Blew his shrill and dreaded sankha, drove his sounding battle-car,
Fiercer, darker grew the battle, when above the reddened plain,
Evening drew her peaceful mantle o'er the living and the slain!

II

STANDARDS OF THE PANDAVS

Morning came; still round Yudhishthir Drona led the gathering war,
Arjun fought the Sam-saptakas in the battle-field afar,
But the prince of fair Panchala marked his father's ancient foe,
And against the doughty Drona, Dhrishta-dyumna bent his bow!
But as darksome cloudy masses angry gusts of storm divide,
Through the scattered fainting foemen Drona drove his car in pride,
Steeds went down and riven chariots, young Panchala turned and fled,
Onward drove resistless Drona o'er the dying and the dead!
One more prince of fair Panchala 'gainst the mighty Drona came,
Ancient feud ran in the red blood of Panchala's chiefs of fame,
Fated youth! with reckless valour still he fought his father's foe,
Fought and fell; relentless Drona laid the brave Satyajit low!
Surging still like ocean's billows other Pandav warriors came,
To protect their virtuous monarch and redeem their ancient fame,
Came in various battle-chariots drawn by steeds of every hue,
Various were the chieftains' standards which the warring nations knew!
Bhima drove his stalwart horses tinted like the dappled deer,
Grey and pigeon-coloured coursers bore Panchala's prince and peer,
Horses bred in famed Kamboja, dark and grey of deepest hue,
Brave Nakula's sumptuous chariot in the deathful battle drew,
Piebald horses trained to battle did young Sahadeva rein,
Ivory-white Yudhishthir's coursers with their flowing ebon mane,
And by him with gold umbrella valiant monarch Drupad came,
Horses of a bright bay-colour carried Matsya's king of fame.
Varied as their varied courses gallantly their standards rose,
With their wondrous stran1ge devices, terror of their arméd foes,
Water-jar on tawny deerskin, such was Drona's sign of war,
Drona as a tender infant rested in a water-jar,
Golden moon with stars surrounding was Yudhishthir's sign of yore,
Silver lion was the standard tiger-waisted Bhima bore,
Brave Nakula's sign was red deer with its back of burnished gold,
Silver swan with bells resounding Sahadeva's onset told,
Golden peacock rich-emblazoned was young Abhimanyu's joy,
Vulture shone on Ghatotkacha, Bhima's proud and gallant boy.
Now Duryodhan marked the foemen heaving like the rising tide,
And he faced the wrathful Bhima towering in his tameless pride,
Short the war; for proud Duryodhan wounded from the battle fled,
And his warriors from fair Anga rested with the countless dead!
Wild with anger Bhagadatta, monarch of the farthest East,
With his still unconquered forces on the valiant Bhima pressed,
Came from far the wrathful Arjun and the battle's front he sought,
Where by eastern foes surrounded still the stalwart Bhima fought!
Fated monarch from the mighty Brahma-putra's sounding shore,
Land of rising sun will hail him and his noble peers no more,
For his tusker pierced by arrows trumpeted his dying wail,
Like a red and flaming meteor gallant Bhagadatta fell!
Then with rising wrath and anguish Karna's noble bosom bled,
Karna who had stayed from battle while his rival Bhishma led,
Ancient hate and jealous anger clouded Karna's warlike heart,
And while Bhishma led, all idly slumbered Karna's bow and dart,
Now he marked with warrior's anguish all his comrades fled afar,
And his foeman Arjun sweeping o'er the red field of the war!
Hatred like a tongue of red fire shot from Karna's flaming eye,
And he sprang to meet his foeman or to conquer or to die,
Fierce and dubious was the battle, answering clouds gave back the din,
Karna met his dearest foeman and, alas, his nearest kin!
Bhima and Panchala's warriors unto Arjun's rescue came,
Proud Duryodhan came to Karna, and fair Sindhu's king of fame,
Fiercely raged the gory combat, when the night its shadows threw,
Wounded men and blood-stained chieftains to their nightly tents withdrew

III

ABHIMANYU'S DEATH

Fatal was the blood-red morning purpling o'er the angry east,
Fatal day for Abhimanyu, bravest warrior and the best,
Countless were the gallant chieftains like the sands beside the sea,
None with braver bosom battled, none with hands more stout and free!
Brief, alas, thy radiant summers, fair Subhadra's gallant boy,
Loved of Matsya's soft-eyed princess and her young heart's pride and joy,
Brief, alas, thy sunlit winters, light of war too early quenched,
Peerless son of peerless Arjun, in the blood of foemen drenched!
Drona on that fatal morning ranged his dreadful battle-line
In a circle darkly spreading where the chiefs with chiefs combine,
And the Pandavs looked despairing on the battle's dread array,
Vainly strove to force a passage, vainly sought their onward way!
Abhimanyu, young and fiery, dashed alone into the war,
Reckless through the shattered forces all resistless drove his car,
Elephants and crashing standards, neighing steeds and warriors slain
Fell before the furious hero as he made a ghastly lane!
Proud Duryodhan rushed to battle, strove to stop the turning tide,
And his stoutest truest warriors fought by proud Duryodhan's side,
Onward still went Abhimanyu, Kurus strove and fought in vain,
Backward reeled and fell Duryodhan and his bravest chiefs were slain!
Next came Salya car-borne monarch 'gainst the young resistless foe,
Urged his fiery battle-coursers, stretched his death-compelling bow,
Onward still went Abhimanyu, Salya strove and fought in vain,
And his warriors took him bleeding from the reddened battle-plain!
Next Duhsasan darkly lowering thundered with his bended bow,
Abhimanyu smiled to see him, kinsman and the dearest foe,
"Art thou he," said Abhimanyu, "known for cruel word and deed,
Impious in thy heart and purpose, base and ruthless in thy greed?
Didst thou with the false Sakuni win a realm by low device,
Win his kingdom from Yudhishthir by ignoble trick of dice,
Didst thou in the council chamber with your insults foul and keen
By her flowing raven tresses drag Yudhishthir's stainless queen,
Didst thou speak to warlike Bhima as thy serf and bounden slave,
Wrong my father righteous Arjun, peerless prince and warrior brave?
Welcome! have sought thee often, wished to cross thy tainted path,
Welcome! Dearest of all victims to my nursed and cherished wrath,
Reap the meed of sin and insult, draw on earth thy latest breath,
For I owe to Queen Draupadi, impious prince, thy speedy death!"
Like a snake upon an ant-hill, on Duhsasan's wicked heart
Fell with hissing wrath and fury Abhimanyu's fiery dart,
From the loss of blood Duhsasan fainted on his battle-car,
Kuru chieftains bore him senseless from the blood-stained scene of war!
Next in gleaming arms accoutred came Duryodhan's gallant son,
Proud and warlike as his father, famed for deeds of valour done,
Young in years and rich in valour, for alas! he fought too well,
And before his weeping father proud and gallant Lakshman fell!
Onward still went Abhimanyu midst the dying and the dead,
Shook from rank to rank the Kurus and their shattered army fled,
Then the impious Jayadratha, king of Sindhu's sounding shore,
Came forth in unrighteous concert with six car-borne warriors more,
Darkly closed the fatal circle with the gulfing surge's moan,
Dauntless with the seven brave chieftains Abhimanyu fought alone!
Fell, alas, his peacock standard and his car was broke in twain,
Bow and sabre rent and shattered and his faithful driver slain,
Heedless yet of death and danger, misty with the loss of blood,
Abhimanyu. wiped his forehead, gazed where dark his foemen stood!
Then with wild despairing valour, flickering flame and closing life,
Mace in hand the heedless warrior rushed to end the mortal strife,
Rushed upon his startled foemen, Abhimanyu fought and fell,
And his deeds to distant ages bards and wand'ring minstrels tell!
Like a tusker of the forest by surrounding hunters slain,
Like a wood-consuming wildfire quenched upon the distant plain,
Like a mountain-shaking tempest spent in force and hushed and still,
Like the red resplendent day-god setting on the western hill,
Like the moon serene and beauteous quenched in eclipse dark and pale,
Lifeless slumbered Abhimanyu when the softened starlight fell!
Done the day of death and slaughter, darkening shadows close around,
Wearied warriors seek for shelter on the vast and tented ground,
Soldiers' camp-fires brightly blazing, tent-lights shining from afar,
Cast their fitful gleam and radiance on the carnage of the war!
Arjun from a field at distance, where upon that day he fought,
With the ever faithful Krishna now his nightly shelter sought,
Wherefore, Krishna," uttered Arjun, "evil omens strike my eye,
Thoughts of sadness fill my bosom, wake the long-forgotten sigh,
Wherefore voice of evening bugle speaks not on the battle-field,
Merry conch nor sounding trumpet music to the warriors yield?
Harp is hushed within the dark tents and the voice of warlike song,
Bards beside the evening camp-fire tales of war do not prolong,
Good Yudhishthir's tent is voiceless and my brothers look so pale,
Abhimanyu comes not joyous Krishna and his sire to hail,
Abhimanyu's love and greeting bless like blessings from above,
Fair Subhadra's joy and treasure, Arjun's pride and hope and love!"
Softly and with many tear-drops did the sad Yudhishthir tell,
How in dreadful field of battle gallant Abhimanyu fell,
How the impious Jayadratha fell on Arjun's youthful son,--
He with six proud Kuru chieftains,--Abhimanyu all alone,
How the young prince reft of weapon and deprived of steel and car,
Fell as falls a Kshatra warrior fighting on the field of war!
Arjun heard; the father's bosom felt the cruel cureless wound,
"Brave and gallant boy!" he uttered as he sank upon the ground,
Moments passed of voiceless sorrow and of speechless bitter tear,
Sobs within his mailéd bosom smote the weeping listener's ear!
Moments passed; with rising anger quivered Arjun's iron frame,
Abhimanyu's cruel murder smote the father's heart to flame,
"Didst thou say that Sindhu's monarch on my Abhimanyu bore,--
He alone,--and Jayadratha leagued with six marauders more,
Didst thou say the impious Kurus stooped unto this deed of shame,
Outrage on the laws of honour, stain upon a warrior's fame?
Father's curse and warrior's hatred sting them to their dying breath,
For they feared my boy in battle, hunted him to cruel death,
Hear my vow, benign Yudhishthir, hear me, Krishna righteous lord,
Arjun's hand shall slay the slayer, Arjun plights his solemn word
May I never reach the bright sky where the righteous fathers dwell,
May I with the darkest sinners live within the deepest hell--
With the men who slay their fathers, shed their loving mothers' blood,
Stain the sacred bed of gurus, steal their gold and holy food,
Cherish envy, cheat their kinsmen, speak the low and dastard lie,
If, ere comes to-morrow's sunset, Jayadratha doth not die,
Jayadratha dies to-morrow, victim to my vengeful ire,
Arjun else shall yield his weapons, perish on the flaming pyre!"
Softer tear-drops wept the mother, joyless was Subhadra's life,--
Krishna's fair and honoured sister, Arjun's dear and lovéd wife:
"Dost thou lie on field of battle smeared with dust and foeman's gore,
Child of light and love and sweetness whom thy hapless mother bore,
Soft thine eye as budding lotus, sweet and gentle was thy face,
Are those soft eyes closed in slumber, faded in that peerless grace,
And thy limbs so young and tender, on the bare earth do they lie,
Where the hungry jackal prowleth and the vulture flutters nigh,
Gold and jewels graced thy bosom, gems bedecked thy lofty crest,
Doth the crimson mark of sabre decorate that manly breast?
Rend Subhadra's stony bosom with a mother's cureless grief,
Let her follow Abhimanyu and in death obtain relief,
Earth to me is void and cheerless, joyless in my hearth and home,
Dreary without Abhimanyu is this weary world to roam!
And oh! cheerless is that young heart, Abhimanyu's princess-wife,
What can sad Subhadra offer to her joyless sunless life,
Close our life in equal darkness, for our day on earth is done,
For our love and light and treasure, Abhimanyu, he is gone!
Long bewailed the anguished mother, fair Draupadi tore her hair,
Matsya's princess early widowed shed her young heart's blood in tear!

IV

STANDARDS OF THE KURUS: ARJUN'S REVENGE

Morning from the face of battle night's depending curtain drew,
Long and shrill his sounding sankha then the wrathful Arjun blew,
Kurus knew the vow of Arjun, heard the sankha's deathful blare,
As it rose above the red field, thrilled the startled morning air,
"Speed, my Krishna," out spake Arjun, as he held aloft his bow,
"For to-day my task is dreadful, cruel is my mighty vow!"
Fiery coursers urged by Krishna flew with lightning's rapid course,
Dashing through the hostile warriors and the serried Kuru force,
Brave Durmarsan faced the hero but he strove and fought in vain,
Onward thundered Arjun's chariot o'er the dying and the slain,
Fierce Duhsasan with his tuskers rushed into the fine of war,
But the tuskers broke in panic, onward still went Arjun's car!
Drona then, the proud preceptor, Arjun's furious progress stayed,
Tear-drops filled the eye of Arjun as these gentle words he said:
"Pardon, father, if thy pupil shuns to-day thy offered war,
'Gainst his Abhimanyu's slayer Arjun speeds his battle-car,
Not against my great acharya is my wrathful bow-string drawn,
Not against a lovéd father fights a loving duteous son!
Heavy on this bleeding bosom sits the darkening load of woe,
And an injured father's vengeance seeks the slaughtered hero's foe,
Pardon then if sorrowing Arjun seeks a far and distant way,
Mighty is the vow of Arjun, cruel is his task to-day!"
Passing by the doughty Drona onward sped the fiery car,
Through the broken line of warriors, through the shattered ranks of war,
Angas and the brave Kalingas vainly crossed his wrathful way,
Proud Avantis from the regions where fair Chambal's waters stray,
Famed Avanti's fated princes vainly led their highland force,
Fell beneath the wrath of Arjun, stayed nor stopped his onward course,
Onward still with speed of lightning thundered Arjun's battle-car,
To the spot where Jayadratha stood behind the ranks of war!
Now the sun from highest zenith red and fiery radiance lent,
Long and weary was the passage, Arjun's foaming steeds were spent,
Arjun said the faithful Krishna, "arduous is thy cruel quest,
But thy foaming coursers falter and they need a moment's rest,"
"Be it so," brave Arjun answered, "from our chariot we alight,
Rest awhile the weary horses, Krishna, I will watch the fight!"
Speaking thus the arméd Arjun lightly leaped upon the lea,
Stood on guard with bow and arrow by the green and shady tree,
Krishna groomed the jaded horses, faint and feeble, red with gore,
With a healing hand he tended wounds the bleeding coursers bore,
Watered them beside a river by the zephyrs soft caressed,
Gave unto them welcome fodder, gave unto them needful rest,
Thus refreshed, the noble coursers Krishna harnessed to the car,
And the gleaming fiery Arjun rushed once more to fatal war!
Came on him the Kuru warriors, darksome wave succeeding wave,
Standards decked with strange devices, streaming banners rich and brave,
Foremost was the glorious standard of preceptor Drona's son,
Lion's tail in golden brilliance on his battle-chariot shone,
Elephant's rope was Karna's ensign made of rich and burnished gold,
And a bull bedecked the standard of the bowman Kripa bold,
Peacock made of precious metal, decked with jewels rich and rare,
Vrishasena's noble standard shone aloft serene and fair,
Ploughshare of a golden lustre shining like the radiant flame,
Spoke the car of mighty Salya, Madra's king of warlike fame,
Far and guarded well by chieftains shone the dazzling silver-boar,
Ensign proud of Jayadratha brought from Sindhu's sounding shore,
On the car of Somadatta shone a stake of sacrifice,
Silver-boar and golden parrots, these were Salwa's proud device,
Last and brightest of the standards, on the prince Duryodhan's car,
Lordly elephant in jewels proudly shone above the war!
Nine heroic Kuru chieftains, bravest warriors and the best,
Leagued they came to grapple Arjun and on faithful Krishna pressed,
Arjun swept like sweeping whirlwind all resistless in his force,
Sought no foe and waged no combat, held his ever onward course,
For he sighted Jayadratha midst the circling chiefs of war,
'Gainst that warrior, grim and silent, Arjun drove his furious car!
Now the day-god rolled his chariot on the western clouds aflame,
Karna's self and five great chieftains round brave Jayadratha came,
Vainly strove the valiant Arjun struggling 'gainst the Kuru line,
Charged upon the peerless Karna as he marked the day's decline,
Krishna then a prayer whispered; came a friendly sable cloud,
Veiled the red sun's dazzling brilliance in a dark and inky shroud!
Karna deemed the closing darkness now proclaimed the close of strife,
Failing in his plighted promise Arjun must surrender life,
And his comrade chiefs rejoicing slackened in their furious fight,
Jayadratha hailed with gladness thickening shades of welcome night!
In that sad and fatal error did the Kuru chiefs combine,
Arjun quick as bolt of lightning broke their all unguarded line,
Like an onward sweeping wildfire shooting forth its lolling tongue,
On the startled Jayadratha, Arjun in his fury flung!
Short the strife; as angry falcon swoops upon its helpless prey,
Arjun sped his vengeful arrow and his foeman lifeless lay,
Friendly winds removed the dark cloud from the reddening western hill,
And the sun in crimson lustre cast its fiery radiance still!
Ere the evening's mantling darkness fell o'er distant hill an d plain,
Proud Duryodhan's many brothers were by vengeful Bhima slain,
And Duryodhan stung by sorrow waged the still unceasing fight,
In the thick and gathering darkness torches lit the gloom of night!
Karna, furious in his anger for his Jayadratha slain,
And for brothers of Duryodhan sleeping lifeless on the plain,
'Gainst the gallant son of Bhima drove his deep resounding car,
And in gloom and midnight darkness waked the echoes of the war!
Bhima's son brave Ghatotkacha twice the steeds of Karna slew,
Twice the humbled steedless Karna from the dubious battle flew,
Came again the fiery Karna, vengeance flamed within his heart,
Like the midnight's lurid lightning sped his fell and fatal dart,
Woeful was the hour of darkness, luckless was the starry sway,
Bhima's son in youth and valour lifeless on the red field lay!
Then was closed the midnight battle, silent shone the starry light,
Bhima knew nor rest nor slumber through the long and woeful night!

V

FALL OF DRONA

Ere the crimson morning glittered proud Duryodhan sad at heart,
To the leader of the Kurus did his sorrows thus impart:
"Sadly speeds the contest, Drona, on the battle's gory plain,
Kuru chiefs are thinned and fallen and my brothers mostly slain,
Can it be, O beat of Brahmans, peerless in the art of war,
Can it be that we shall falter while thou speed'st the battle-car?
Pandu's sons are but thy pupils, Arjun meets thee not in fight,
None can face the great acharya in his wrath and warlike might,
Wherefore then in every battle are the Kuru chieftains slain,
Wherefore lie my warlike brothers lifeless on the ghastly plain?
Is it that the fates of battle 'gainst the Kuru house combine,
Is it that thy heart's affection unto Panda's sons incline?
If thy secret love and mercy still the sons of Pandu claim,
Yield thy place to gallant Karna, Anga's prince of warlike fame!"
Answered Drona brief and wrathful: "Fair Gandhari's royal son,
Reapest thou the gory harvest of thy sinful actions done,
Cast no blame in youth's presumption on a warrior's fleecy hair,
Faithful unto death is Drona to his promise plighted fair!
Ask thyself, O prince Duryodhan, bound by battle's sacred laws,
Wherefore fightest not with Arjun for thy house and for thy cause,
Ask the dark and deep Sakuni, where is now his low device,
Wherefore wields he not his weapon as he wields the loaded dice,
Ask the chief who proudly boasted, archer Arjun he would slay,
Helméd Arjun sways the battle, whither now doth Karna stay?
Know the truth; the gallant Arjun hath no peer on earth below,
And no warrior breathes, Duryodhan, who can face thy helméd foe,
Drona knows his sacred duty, and 'tis willed by Heaven on high,
Arjun or preceptor Drona shall in this day's battle die!"
Now the Sun in crimson splendour rolled his car of glistening gold,
Sent his shafts of purple radiance on the plain and mountain bold,
And from elephant and charger, from each bravely bannered car,
Lighted mailéd kings and chieftains and the leaders of the war,
Faced the sun with hands conjoinéd and the sacred mantra told,--
Hymns by ancient rishis chanted, sanctified by bards of old!
Worship done, each silent warrior mounted on his car or steed,
Onward to the deathful contest did his gallant forces lead,
Ill it fared with Pandav forces, doughty Drona took the field,
Peer was none midst living warriors of the Brahman trained and skilled,
Arjun, faithful to his promise, his preceptor would not fight,
King nor chief nor other archer dared to face his peerless might.
But old feud like potent poison fires the warrior's heart with strife,
Sire to son still unforgotten. leaps the hate from death to life,
Wrathful princes of Panchala by their deathless hatred stung,
Saw their ancient foe in Drona and on him for vengeance sprung!
Darkly thought the ancient warrior of the old relentless feud,
Fiercely like a jungle-tiger fell upon the hostile brood,
Royal Drupad's valiant grandsons in their youth untimely slain,
Victims of a deathless discord, pressed the gory battle-plain!
Drupad pale with grief and anger marked his gallant grandsons dead
And his army crushed and routed and his bravest chieftains fled,
Filled with unforgotten hatred and with father's grief and pride,
Rushed the king, and bold Virata charged by doughty Drupad's side!
Rose a cry of nameless terror o'er the red and ghastly plain,
Noble Drupad, brave Virata, lay among the countless slain,
Burning tears the proud Draupadi wept for noble father killed,
Maid and matron with their wailing fair Panchala's empire filled,
Matsya's joyless widowed princess, for her fate was early crost,
Wept with added tears and anguish for her father loved and lost!
Waged the war with fearful slaughter, Drona onward urged his way,
Fate alone and battle's chances changed the fortunes of the day,
Aswa-thaman son of Drona was a chief of peerless fame,
And an elephant of battle bore that chieftain's warlike name,
And that proud and lordly tusker Bhima in his prowess slew,
Rank to rank from friend to foeman then a garbled message flew:
"Aswa-thaman son of Drona is by mighty Bhima slain,"
Drona heard that fatal message, bent his anguished head in pain!
"Speak Yudhishthir, soul of virtue thus the proud preceptor cried,
"Thou in truth hast never faltered and thy lips have never lied,
Speak of valiant Aswa-thaman, Drona's hope and pride and joy,
Hath he fallen in this battle, is he slain, my gallant boy,
Feeble are the hands of Drona and his prowess quenched and gone,
Fleecy are his ancient tresses and his earthly task is done!"
Said Yudhishthir thus in answer: "Tusker Aswa-thaman's dead,"
Drona heard but half the accents, feebly drooped his sinking head,
Then the prince of fair Panchala swiftly drove across the plain,
Marked his father's cruel slayer, marked his noble father slain!
Dhrista-dyumna bent his weapon and his shaft was pointed well,
And the priest and proud preceptor, peerless Drona lifeless fell,
And the fatal day was ended, Kurus fled in abject fear,
Arjun for his ancient teacher dropped a silent filial tear!

MAHABHARATA BOOK X

KARNA-BADHA

(Fall of Karna)

KARNA was chosen as the leader of the Kuru forces after the death of Drona, and held his own for two days. The great contest between Karna and Arjun, long expected and long deferred, came on at last. It is the crowning incident of the Indian Epic, as the contest between Hector and Achilles is the crowning incident of the Iliad. With a truer artistic skill than that of Homer, the Indian poet represents Karna as equal to Arjun in strength and skill, and his defeat is only due to an accident.
After the death of Karna, Salya led the Kuru troops on the eighteenth and last day of the war, and fell. A midnight slaughter in the Pandav camp, perpetrated by the vengeful son of Drona, concludes the war. Duryodhan, left wounded by Bhima, heard of the slaughter and died happy.
Books viii., ix., and x. of the original have been abridged in this Book.

I

KARNA AND ARJUN MEET

Sights of red and ghastly carnage day disclosed upon the plain,
Mighty chiefs and countless warriors round the warlike Drona slain,
Sad Duryodhan gazed in sorrow and the tear was in his eye,
Till his glances fell on Karna and his warlike heart beat high!
"Karna!" so exclaimed Duryodhan, "hero of resistless might,
Thou alone canst serve the Kuru in this dread and dubious fight,
Step forth, Kuru's chief and leader, mount thy sounding battle-car,
Lead the still unconquered Kurus to the trophies of the war!
Matchless was the ancient Bhishma in this famed and warlike land,
But a weakness for Yudhishthir palsied Bhishma's slaying hand,
Matchless too was doughty Drona in the warrior's skill and art,
Kindness for his pupil Arjun lurked within the teacher's heart!
Greater than the ancient grandsire, greater than the Brahman old,
Fiercer in thy deathless hatred, stronger in thy prowess bold,
Peerless Karna, lead us onward to a brighter happier fate,
For thy arm is nerved to action by an unforgotten hate!
Lead us as the martial SKANDA led the conquering gods of old,
Smite the foe as angry INDRA smote the Danavs fierce and bold,
As before the light of morning flies the baleful gloom of night,
Pandavs and the proud Panchalas fly before thy conquering might!
Priests with hymns and chanted mantra and with every sacred rite
Hailed him Leader of the Kurus, chieftain of unconquered might,
Earthen jars they placed around him with the sacred water full,
Elephant's tusk they laid beside him and the horn of mighty bull,
Gem and jewel, corn and produce, by the arméd hero laid,
Silken cloth of finest lustre o'er his crownéd head they spread,
Brahmans poured the holy water, bards his lofty praises sung,
Kshatras, Vaisyas, purer Sudras hailed him Leader bold and strong!
"Vanquish warlike sons of Pritha! " thus the holy Brahmans blessed,
Gold and garments, food and cattle, joyous Karna on them pressed,
And the holy rite concluded, Karna ranged his men in war,
To the dreaded front of battle drove his swift and conquering car!
Morn to noon and noon to evening raged the battle on the plain,
Countless warriors fought and perished, car-borne chiefs were pierced and slain,
Helméd Arjun, crownéd Karna, met at last by will of fate,
Life-long was their mutual anger, deathless was their mutual hate!
And the firm earth shook and trembled 'neath the furious rush of war,
And the echoing welkin answered shouts that nations heard afar,
And the thickening cloud of arrows filled the firmament on high,
Darker, deeper, dread and deadlier, grew the angry face of sky,
Till the evening's sable garment mantled o'er the battle-field,
And the angry rivals parted, neither chief could win or yield!

II

FALL OF KARNA

At the break of morning Karna unto Prince Duryodhan went,
Thus in slow and measured accents to his inner thoughts gave vent:
"Morning dawns, O Kuru's monarch! mighty Arjun shall be slain,
Or fulfilling warrior's duty Karna dyes the gory plain!
Long through life within our bosoms ever burnt the mutual hate,
Oft we met and often parted, rescued by the will of fate,
But yon sun with crimson lustre sees us meet to part no more,
Gallant Arjun's course this evening or proud Karna's shall be o'er,
Room is none for Arjun's glory and for archer Karna's fame,
One must sink and one must sparkle with a brighter richer flame!
List yet more; in wealth of arrows and in wondrous strength of bow,
Arjun scarcely me surpasseth, scarcely I excel my foe,
In the light skill of the archer and in sight and truth of aim,
Arjun beats not, scarcely rivals, Karna's proud and peerless fame!
If his wondrous bow Gandiva is the gift of gods in heaven,
Karna's bow the famed Vijaya is by Par'su-Rama given,
Ay, the son of Jamadagni, kings of earth who proudly slayed,
On the youthful arms of Karna his destructive weapon laid!
Yet I own, O king of Kuru! Arjun doth his foe excel,
Matchless are his fiery coursers, peerless Krishna leads them well,
Krishna holds the reins for Arjun, Krishna speeds his battle-car,
Drives the lightning-wingéd coursers o'er the startled field of war,
Sweeps in pride his sounding chariot till it almost seems to fly,
Arjun lords it o'er the battle like the comet in the sky!
Grant me, monarch, mighty Salya drive my swift and warlike steed,
And against the car-borne Arjun, Karna's fiery chariot lead,
Salya,too is skilled, like Krishna, with the steed and battle-car,
Equal thus I meet my foeman in this last and fatal war!"
Spake Duryodhan; warlike Salya mounted Karna's sounding car,
Karna sought for mighty Arjun in the serried ranks of war:
"Hundred milch-kine Karna offers, costly garment, yellow gold,
Unto him who in this battle points to me my foeman bold,
Cars and steeds and fertile acres, peaceful hamlets rich and fair,
Dark-eyed damsels lotus-bosomed, crowned with glossy raven hair,
These are his who points out Arjun hiding from this fatal war,
Arjun's snowy steeds and banner and his swift and thund'ring car!"
Karna spake, but long and loudly laughed the king of Madra's land,
As he reined the fiery coursers with his strong and skilful hand,
"Of rewards and gifts," he uttered, "little need is there, I ween,
Arjun is not wont to tarry from the battle's glorious scene,
Soon will Arjun's snowy coursers shake the battle's startled field,
Helméd Arjun like a comet gleam with bow and sword and shield!
As the forest-ranging tiger springs upon his fated prey,
As the homéd bull infuriate doth the weakling cattle slay,
As the fierce and lordly lion smites the timid jungle-deer,
Arjun soon shall smite thee, Karna, for he knows nor dread nor fear,
Save thee then, O mighty archer I while I drive my sounding car,
Pandu's son hath met no equal in the valiant art of war!
Darkly frowned the angry Karna, Salya held the loosened rein,
Dashing through the hostile forces then the warrior sped amain,
Through the serried ranks of battle Karna drove in furious mood,
Facing him in royal splendour good Yudhishthir fearless stood!
Surging ranks of brave Nishadas closed between and fought in vain,
Proud Panchalas stout and faithful vainly strove among the slain,
Onward came the fiery Karna like the ocean's heaving swell,
With the sweeping wrath of tempest on the good Yudhishthir fell!
Wrathful then the son of Pandu marked his noblest chieftains dead,
And in words of scornful anger thus to archer Karna said:
"Hast thou, Karna, vowed the slaughter of my younger Arjun brave,
Wilt thou do Duryodhan's mandate, proud Duryodhan's willing slave,
Unfulfilled thy vow remaineth, for the righteous gods ordain,
By Yudhishthir's hand thou fallest, go and slumber with the slain!"
Fiercely drew his bow Yudhishthir, fiercely was the arrow driven,
Rocky cliff or solid mountain might the shaft have pierced and riven,
Lightning-like it came on Karna, struck and pierced him on the left,
And the warrior fell and fainted as of life and sense bereft!
Soon he rose; the cloud of anger darkened o'er his livid face,
And he drew his godlike weapon with a more than godlike grace,
Arrows keen and dark as midnight gleaming in their lightning flight,
Struck Yudhishthir's royal armour with a fierce resistless might!
Clanking fell the shattered armour from his person fair and pale,
As from sun's meridian splendour clouds are drifted by the gale,
Armourless but bright and radiant brave Yudhishthir waged the fight,
Bright as sky with stars bespangled on a clear and cloudless night,
And he threw his pointed lances like the summer's bursting flood,
Once again Yudhishthir's weapons drank his fiery foeman's blood!
Pale with anguish, wrathful Karna fiercely turned the tide of war,
Out Yudhishthir's royal standard, crashed his sumptuous battle-car,
And he urged his gallant coursers till his chariot bounding flew,
And with more than godlike prowess then his famed Vijaya drew,
Faint Yudhishthir sorely bleeding waged no more the fatal fight,
Carless, steedless, void of armour, sought his safety in his flight!
"Speed, thou timid man of penance! "thus insulting Karna said,
"Famed for virtue not for valour! blood of thine I will not shed,
Speed and chant thy wonted mantra, do the rites that sages know,
Bid the helméd warrior Arjun come and meet his warlike foe!"
To his tent retired Yudhishthir in his wrath and in his shame,
Spake to Arjun who from battle to his angry elder came:
"Hast thou yet, O tardly Arjun, base insulting Karna slain,
Karna dealing dire destruction on this battle's reddened plain?
Like his teacher Par'su-Rama dyes in purple blood his course,
Like a snake of deathful poison Karna guards the Kuru force,
Karna smote my chariot-driver and my standard rent in twain,
Shattered car and lifeless horses strew the red inglorious plain,
Scarce with life in speechless anguish from the battle-field I fled,
Scorn of foes and shame of kinsmen! Warrior's fame and honour dead!
Ten long years and three Yudhishthir joy nor peace nor rest hath seen,
And while Karna lives and glories all our insults still are green,
Hast thou, Arjun, slain that chieftain as in swelling pride he stood,
Hast thou wiped our wrongs and insults in that chariot-driver's blood?"
"At a distance," Krishna answered, "fiery Arjun fought his way,
Now he seeks the archer Karna and he vows his death to-day."
Anger lit Yudhishthir's forehead and a tremor shook his frame,
As he spake to silent Arjun words of insult and of shame:
"Wherefore like a painted warrior doth the helméd Arjun stand,
Wherefore useless lies Gandiva in his weak and nerveless hand,
Wherefore hangs yon mighty sabre from his belt of silk and gold,
Wherefore doth the peerless Krishna drive his coursers fleet and bold,
If afar from war's arena timid Arjun seeks to hide,
If he shuns the mighty Karna battling in unconquered pride?
Arjun! yield thy famed Gandiva unto worthier hands than thine,
On some braver, truer warrior let thy mighty standard shine,
Yield thy helmet and thy armour, yield thy gleaming sword and shield,
Hide thee from this deathful battle, matchless Karna rules the field!"
Sparkled Arjun's eye in anger with a red and livid flame,
And the tempest of his passion shook his more than mortal frame.
Heedless, on the sword-hilt Arjun placed his swift and trembling hand,
Heedless, with a warrior's instinct drew the dark and glistening brand!
Sacred blood of king and elder would have stained his trenchant steel,
But the wise and noble Krishna strove the fatal feud to heal:
"Not before thy elder, Arjun, but in yonder purple field,
'Gainst thy rival and thy foeman use thy warlike sword and shield,
Render honour to thy elder, quench thy hasty impious wrath,
Render faith to holy sastra, leave not virtue's sacred path,
Bow before thy virtuous elder as before the gods in heaven,
Sheathe thy sword and quell thy passion, be thy hasty sin forgiven!
Duteous Arjun silent listened and obeyed the mandate high,
Tears of manly sorrow trickled from his soft and altered eye,
Dear in joy and dear in suffering, calm his righteous elder stood,
Dear in Indra-prastha's mansions, dearer in the jungle wood!
Arjun sheathed his flashing sabre, joined his hands and hung his head,
Fixed his eye on good Yudhishthir and in humble accents said:
"Pardon, great and saintly monarch, vassal's disrespectful word,
Pardon, elder, if a younger heedless drew his sinful sword,
But thy best to yield my weapon stung my soul to bitter strife,
Dearer is the bow Gandiva unto Arjun than his life,
Pardon if the blood of anger mantled o'er this rugged brow,
Pardon if I drew my sabre 'gainst my duty and my vow,
For that hasty act repenting Arjun bows thy heart to move
Grant me, holy king and elder, monarch's grace and brother's love!"
From Yudhishthir's altered eyelids gentle tears of sorrow start,
And he lifts his younger brother to his ever-loving heart:
"Arjun, I have wronged thee brother, and no fault or sin is thine,
Hasty words of thoughtless anger 'scaped these sinful lips of mine,
Bitter was my shame and anguish when from Karna's car I fled,
Redder than my bleeding bosom warrior's fame and honour bled,
Hasty words I uttered, Arjun, by my pain and anguish driven,
Wipe them with a brother's kindness, be thy elder's sin forgiven!"
Stronger by his elder's blessing Arjun mounts the battle-car,
Krishna drives the milk-white coursers to the thickening ranks of war.
Onward came the fiery Karna with his chiefs and arméd men,
Salya urged his flying coursers with the whip and loosened rein,
Often met and often parted, life-long rivals in their fame,
Not to part again the heroes, each before the other came,
Not to part until a chieftain by the other chief was slain,
Arjun dead or lifeless Karna, pressed the Kuru-kshetra plain!
Long they strove, but neither archer could his gallant foeman beat,
Though like surging ocean billows did the angry warriors meet,
Arjun's arrows fell on Karna like the summer's angry flood,
Karna's shafts like hissing serpents drank the valiant Arjun's blood,
Fierce and quick from his Gandiva angry accents Arjun woke,
Till the bow-string strained and heated was by sudden impulse broke!
"Hold," cried Arjun to his rival, "mind the honoured rules of war,
Warriors strike not helpless foemen thus disabled on the car,
Hold, brave Karna, until Arjun mends his over-strainéd bow,
Arjun then will crave for mercy nor from god nor mortal foe!"
Vain he spake, for wild with anger heedless Karna, fiercely lowered,
Thick and fast on bowless Arjun countless arrows darkly showered,
Like the cobra dark and hissing Karna's gleaming lightning dart,
Struck the helpless archer Arjun on his broad and bleeding heart!
Furious like a wounded tiger quivering in the darksome wood,
With his mended warlike weapon now the angry Arjun stood,
Blazing with a mighty radiance like a flame in summer night,
Fierce he fell on archer Karna with his more than mortal might!
Little recked the dauntless Karna if his foe in anger rose,
Karna feared not face of mortal, dreaded not immortal foes,
Nor with all his wrath and valour Arjun conquered him in war,
Till within the soft earth sinking stuck the wheel of Karna's car!
Stood unmoved the tilted chariot, vainly wrathful Salya strove,
Urging still the struggling coursers Karna's heavy car to move,
Vainly too the gallant Karna leaped upon the humid soil,
Sought to lift the sunken axle with a hard unwonted toil,
"Hold," he cried to noble Arjun, "wage no false and impious war
On a foeman, helpless, carless,--thou upon thy lofty car."
Loudly laughed the helméd Arjun, answer nor rejoinder gave,
Unto Karna pleading virtue Krishna answered calm and grave:
"Didst thou seek the path of virtue, mighty Karna, archer bold,
When Sakuni robbed Yudhishthir of his empire and his gold,
Didst thou tread the path of honour on Yudhishthir's fatal fall,
Heaping insults on Draupadi in Hastina's council hall?
Didst thou then fulfil thy duty when, Yudhishthir's exile crost,
Krishna asked in right and justice for Yudhishthir's empire lost,
Didst thou fight a holy battle when with six marauders skilled,
Karna hunted Abhimanyu and the youthful hero killed?
Speak not then of rules of honour, blackened in your sins you die,
Death is come in shape of Arjun, Karna's fatal hour is nigh!
Stung to fury and to madness, faint but frantic Karna fought,
Reckless, ruthless, and relentless, valiant Arjun's life he sought,
Sent his last resistless arrow on his foeman's mighty chest,
Arjun felt a shock of thunder on his broad and mailéd breast!
Fainting fell the bleeding Arjun, darkness dimmed his manly eye,
Pale and breathless watched his warriors, anxious watched the gods in sky,
Then it passed, and helméd Arjun rose like newly lighted fire,
Abhimanyu's sad remembrance kindled fresh a father's ire!
And he drew his bow Gandiva, aimed his dart with stifled breath,
Vengeance for his murdered hero winged the fatal dart of death,
Like the fiery bolt of lightning Arjun's lurid arrow sped,
Like a rock by thunder riven Karna fell among the dead!

III

FALL OF SALYA

Darkly closed the shades of midnight, Karna still and lifeless lay,
Ghast and Pale o'er slaughtered thousands fell the morning's sickly ray,
Bowman brave and proud preceptor Kripa to Duryodhan said,
Tear bedimmed the warrior's eyelids and his manly bosom bled:
"Leaderless are Koru's forces by a dire misfortune crost,
Like the moonless shades of midnight in their utter darkness lost,
Like a summer-driéd river, weary waste of and sand,
Lost its pride of fresh'ning waters sweeping o'er the grateful land!
As a spark of fire consumeth summer's parched and sapless wood,
Kuru's lordless, lifeless forces shall be angry Arjun's food,
Bhima too shall seek fulfilment of the dreadful vow he made,
Brave Satyaki wreak his vengeance for his sons untimely slayed!
Bid this battle cease, Duryodhan, pale and fitful is thy star,
Blood enough of friendly nations soaks this crimson field of war,
Bid them live,--the few survivors of a vast and countless host,
Let thy few remaining brothers live,--for many are the lost,
Kindly heart hath good Yudhishthir, still he seeks for rightful peace,
Render back his ancient kingdom, bid this war of kinsmen cease!"
"Kripa," so Duryodhan answered, "in this sad and fatal strife,
Ever foremost of our warriors, ever careless of thy life,
Ever in the council chamber thou hast words of wisdom said,
Needless war and dire destruction by thy peaceful counsel stayed,
Every word thou speakest, Kripa, is a word of truth and weight.
Nathless thy advice for concord, wise preceptor, comes too late!
Hope not that the good Yudhishthir will again our friendship own
Cheated once by deep Sakuni of his kingdom and his throne,
Rugged Bhima will not palter, fatal is the vow he made,
Vengeful Arjun will not pardon gallant Abhimanyu dead!
Fair Draupadi doth her penance, so our ancient matrons say,
In our blood to wash her insult and her proud insulters slay,
Fair Subhadra morn and evening weeps her dear departed son,
Feeds Draupadi's deathless anger for the hero dead and gone,
Deeply in their bosoms rankle wrongs and insults we have given,
Blood alone can wash it, Kripa, such the cruel will of Heaven!
And the hour for peace is over, for our best sleep on the plain,
Brothers, kinsmen, friends, and elders slumber with the countless slain,
Shall Duryodhan like a recreant now avoid the deathful strife,
After all his bravest warriors have in war surrendered life,
Shall he, sending them to slaughter, now survive and learn to flee,
Shall he, ruler over monarchs, learn to bend the servile knee?
Proud Duryodhan sues no favour even with his dying breath,
Unsubdued and still unconquered, changeless even unto death,
Salya valiant king of Madra. leads our arméd hosts to-day,
Or to perish or to conquer, gallant Kripa, lead the way!"
Meanwhile round the brave Yudhishthir calmly stood the Pandav force,
As the final day of battle now began its fatal course,
"Brothers, kinsmen, hero-warriors," so the good Yudhishthir said,
"Ye have done your share in battle, witness countless foemen dead
Sad Yudhishthir is your eldest, let him end this fatal strife,
Slay the last of Kuru chieftains or surrender throne and life!
Bold Satyaki ever faithful with his arms protects my right,
Drupad's son with watchful valour guards my left with wonted might.
In the front doth Bhima battle, careful Arjun guards the rear,
I will lead the battle's centre which shall know nor flight nor fear!"
Truly on that fatal morning brave Yudhishthir kept his word,
Long and fiercely waged the combat with fair Madra's valiant lord,
Thick and fast the arrows whistled and the lances pointed well,
Till with crashing sound of thunder Salya's mighty standard fell!
Rescued by the son of Drona, Salya rushed again to war,
Slew the noble milk-white coursers of Yudhishthir's royal car,
And as springs the hungry lion on the spotted jungle-deer,
Salya rushed upon Yudhishthir reckless and unknown to fear!
Brave Yudhishthir marked him coming and he hurled his fatal dart,
Like the fatal curse of Brahman sank the weapon in his heart,
Blood suffused his eye and nostril, quivered still his feeble hand,
Like a cliff by thunder riven Salya fell and shook the land!
Ended was the fatal battle, for the Mlechcha king was slain,
Pierced by angry Sahadeva false Sakuni pressed the plain,
All the brothers of Duryodhan tiger-waisted Bhima slew,
Proud Duryodhan pale and panting from the field of battle flew!

IV

NIGHT OF SLAUGHTER: DURYODHAN'S DEATH

Far from battle's toil and slaughter, by a dark and limpid lake,
Sad and slow and faint Duryodhan did his humble shelter take,
But the valiant sons of Pandu with the hunter's watchful care,
Thither tracked their fallen foeman like a wild beast in its lair!
"Gods be witness," said Duryodhan, flaming in his shame and wrath,
"Boy to manhood ever hating we have crossed each other's path,
Now we meet to part no longer, proud Duryodhan fights you all,
Perish he, or sons of Pandu, may this evening see your fall!"
Bhima answered: "For the insults long endured but not forgiven,
Me alone you fight, Duryodhan, witness righteous gods in heaven,
Call to mind the dark destruction planned of old in fiendish ire,
In the halls of Varnavata to consume us in the fire,
Call to mind the scheme deceitful, deep Sakuni's dark device,
Cheating us of fame and empire by the trick of loaded dice,
Call to mind that coward insult and the outrage foul and keen,
Flung on Drupad's saintly daughter and our noble spotless queen,
Call to mind the stainless Bhishma for thy sins and folly slain,
Lifeless proud preceptor Drona, Karna lifeless on the plain,
Perish in thy sins, Duryodhan, perish too thy hated name,
And thy dark life crime-polluted ends, Duryodhan, in thy shame!"
Like two bulls that fight in fury blind with wounds and oozing blood,
Like two wild and warring tuskers shaking all the echoing wood,
Me the thunder-wielding INDRA, YAMA monarch of the dead,
Dauntless Bhima and Duryodhan fiercely strove and fought and bled!
Sparks of fire shot from their maces and their faces ran with blood,
Neither won and neither yielded, matched in strength the rivals stood,
Till his vow remembered Bhima, and he raised his weapon high,
With a foul attack but fatal broke Duryodhan's shattered knee!
Through the sky a voice resounded as the great Duryodhan fell,
And the earth the voice re-echoed o'er her distant hill and dale,
Beasts and birds in consternation flew o'er land and azure sky,
Men below and heavenly Siddhas trembled at the fatal cry!
Darkness fell upon the battle, proud Duryodhan dying lay,
But the slaughter of the combat closed not with the closing day,
Ancient feud and hatred linger after battle's sweeping flood,
And the father's deathless anger courseth in the children's blood,
Drona slept and gallant Drupad, for their earthly task was done,
Vengeance fired the son of Drona 'gainst the royal Drupad's son!
Sable shadows of the midnight fell o'er battle's silent plain,
Faintly shone the fitful planets on the dying and the slain,
And the vengeful son of Drona fired by omens dark and dread,
Stole into the tents of foemen with a soft and noiseless tread!
Dhrista-dyumna and Sikhandin, princes of Panchala's land,
Fell beneath the proud avenger Aswa-thaman's reeking hand,
Ay, where Drupad's sleeping grandsons, fair Draupadi's children lay,
Stole the cruel arm of vengeance, smothered them ere dawn of day!
Done the ghastly work of slaughter, Aswa-thaman bent his way
Where beside the limpid waters lone Duryodhan dying lay,
And Duryodhan blessed the hero with his feeble fleeting breath,
Joy of vengeance cheered his bosom and he died a happy death!

MAHABHARATA BOOK XI

SRADDHA

(Funeral Rites)

THE death of Duryodhan concludes the war, and it is followed by the lament of women and the funerals of the deceased warriors. The passages translated in this Book form Section x., portions of Sections xvi., xvii., and xxvi., and the whole of Section xxvii. of Book xi. of the original text.

I

KURU WOMEN VISIT THE BATTLE-FIELD

Spake the ancient Dhrita-rashtra, father of a hundred sons,
Sonless now and sorrow-stricken, dark his ebbing life-tide runs:
"Gods fulfil my life's last wishes! Henchmen, yoke my royal car,
Dhrita-rashtra meets his princes in the silent field of war,
Speed unto the Queen Gandhari, to the dames of Kuru's house,
To each dear departed warrior wends his fair and faithful spouse!"
Queen Gandhari sorrow-laden with the ancient Pritha came,
And each weeping widowed princess and each wailing childless dame,
And they saw the hoary monarch, father of a perished race,
Fresh and loud awoke their sorrow, welling tears suffused their face,
Good Vidura ever gentle whispered comfort unto all,
Placed the dames within their chariots, left Hastina's palace hall!
Loud the wail of woe and sorrow rose from every Kuru house,
Children wept beside their mothers for each widowed royal spouse,
Veiléd dwellers of the palace, scarce the gods their face had seen,
Heedless now through mart and city sped each widowed childless queen,
From their royal brow and bosom gem and jewel cast aside,
Loose their robes and loose their tresses, quenched their haughty queenly pride!
So when falls the antlered monarch, struck by woe and sudden fear
Issuing from their snowy mountains listless stray the dappled deer,
So when smit by sudden panic, milk-white mares that scour the plain,
Wildly toss their flowing tresses, shake their soft and glossy mane!
Clinging to her weeping sister wept each dame in cureless pain,
For the lord the son or father in the deathful battle slain,
Wept and smote her throbbing bosom and in bitter anguish wailed,
Till her senses reeled in sorrow, till her woman's reason failed!
Veiléd queens and bashful maidens, erst they shunned the public eye,
Blush nor shame suffused their faces as they passed the city by,
Gentle-bosomed, kindly hearted, erst they wiped each other's tear,
Now by common sorrow laden knew no sister's words of cheer!
With this troop of wailing women, deep in woe, disconsolate,
Slow the monarch of the Kurus passed Hastina's outer gate,
Men from stall and loom and anvil, men of every guild and trade,
Left the city with the monarch, through the open country strayed,
And a universal sorrow filled the air and answering sky,
As when ends the mortal's Yuga and the end of world is nigh!

II

GANDHARI'S LAMENT FOR THE SLAIN

Stainless Queen and stainless woman, ever righteous ever good,
Stately in her mighty sorrow on the field Gandhari stood!
Strewn with skulls and clotted tresses, darkened by the stream of gore,
With the limbs of countless warriors is the red field covered o'er,
Elephants and steeds of battle, car-borne chiefs untimely slain,
Headless trunks and heads dissevered fill the red and ghastly plain,
And the long-drawn howl of jackals o'er the scene of carnage rings,
And the vulture and the raven flap their dark and loathsome wings,
Feasting on the blood of warriors foul Pisachas fill the air,
Viewless forms of hungry Rakshas limb from limb the corpses tear!
Through this scene of death and carnage was the ancient monarch led,
Kuru dames with faltering footsteps stepped amidst the countless dead,
And a piercing wail of anguish burst upon the echoing plain,
As they saw their sons or fathers, brothers, lords, amidst the slain,
As they saw the wolves of jungle feed upon the destined prey,
Darksome wanderers of the midnight prowling in the light of day!
Shriek of pain and wail of anguish o'er the ghastly field resound,
And their feeble footsteps falter and they sink upon the ground,
Sense and life desert the mourners as they faint in common grief,
Death-like swoon succeeding sorrow yields a moment's short relief!
Then a mighty sigh of anguish from Gandhari's bosom broke,
Gazing on her anguished daughters unto Krishna thus she spoke:
"Mark my unconsoléd daughters, widowed queens of Kuru's house,
Wailing for their dear departed, like the osprey for her spouse!
How each cold and fading feature wakes in them a woman's love,
How amidst the lifeless warriors still with restless steps they rove,
Mothers hug their slaughtered children all unconscious in their sleep,
Widows bend upon their husbands and in ceaseless sorrow weep,
Mighty Bhishma, hath he fallen, quenched is archer Karna's pride,
Doth the monarch of Panchala sleep by foeman Drona's side?
Shining mail and costly jewels, royal bangles strew the plain,
Golden garlands rich and burnished deck the chiefs untimely slain,
Lances hurled by stalwart fighters, clubs of mighty wrestlers killed
Swords and bows of ample measure, quivers still with arrows filled!
Mark the unforgotten heroes, jungle prowlers 'mid them stray,
On their brow and mailéd bosoms heedless perch the birds of prey,
Mark they great unconquered heroes famed on earth from west to east,
Kankas perch upon their foreheads, hungry wolves upon them feast!
Mark the kings, on softest cushion scarce the needed rest they found,
Now they lie in peaceful slumber on the hard and reddened ground,
Mark the youths who morn and evening listed to the minstrel's song,
In their ear the loathsome jackal doth his doleful wail prolong!
See the chieftains with their maces and their swords of trusty steel,
Still they grasp their tried weapons,--do they still the life-pulse feel?"

III

GANDHARI'S LAMENT FOR DURYODHAN

Thus to Krishna, Queen Gandhari strove her woeful thoughts to tell,
When, alas, her wandering vision on her son Duryodhan fell,
Sudden anguish smote her bosom and her senses seemed to stray,
Like a tree by tempest shaken senseless on the earth she lay!
Once again she waked in sorrow, once again she cast her eye
Where her son in blood empurpled slept beneath the open sky,
And she clasped her dear Duryodhan, held him close unto her breast,
Sobs convulsive shook her bosom as the lifeless form she prest,
And her tears like rains of summer fell and washed his noble head,
Decked with garlands still untarnished, graced with nishkas bright and red!
"'Mother!' said my dear Duryodhan when he went unto the war,
'Wish me joy and wish me triumph as I mount the battle-car,'
'Son!' I said to dear Duryodhan, 'Heaven avert a cruel fate,
Yato dharma stato jayah! Triumph doth on Virtue wait!'
But he set his heart on battle, by his valour wiped his sins,
Now he dwells in realms celestial which the faithful warrior wins,
And I weep not for Duryodhan, like a prince he fought and fell,
But my sorrow-stricken husband, who can his misfortunes tell!
Ay! my son was brave and princely, all resistless in the war,
Now he sleeps the sleep of warriors, sunk in gloom his glorious star,
Ay! My son 'mid crownéd monarchs held the first and foremost way,
Now he rests upon the red earth, quenched his bright effulgent ray,
Ay! my son the best of heroes, he hath won the warrior's sky,
Kshatras nobly conquer, Krishna, when in war they nobly die!
Hark the loathsome cry of jackals, how the wolves their vigils keep,
Maidens rich in song and beauty erst were wont to watch his sleep,
Hark the foul and blood-beaked vultures flap their wings upon the dead,
Maidens waved their feathery pankhas round Duryodhan's royal bed,
Peerless bowman! mighty monarch! nations still his hests obeyed,
As a lion slays a tiger, Bhima hath Duryodhan slayed!
Thirteen years o'er Kuru's empire proud Duryodhan held his sway,
Ruled Hastina's ancient city where fair Ganga's waters stray,
I have seen his regal splendour with these ancient eyes of mine,
Elephants and battle-chariots, steeds of war and herds of kine,
Kuru owns another master and Duryodhan's day is fled,
And I five to be a witness! Krishna, O that I were dead!
Mark Duryodhan's noble widow, mother proud of Lakshman bold,
Queenly in her youth and beauty, like an altar of bright gold,
Torn from husband's sweet embraces, from her son's entwining arms,
Doomed to life-long woe and anguish in her youth and in her charms,
Rend my hard and stony bosom crushed beneath this cruel pain,
Should Gandhari live to witness noble son and grandson slain?
Mark again Duryodhan's widow, how she hugs his gory head,
How with gentle hands and tender softly holds him on his bed,
How from dear departed husband turns she to her dearer son,
And the tear-drops of the mother choke the widow's bitter groan,
Like the fibre of the lotus tender-golden is her frame,
O my lotus! O my daughter! Bharat's pride and Kuru's fame!
If the truth resides in Vedas, brave Duryodhan dwells above,
Wherefore linger we in sadness severed from his cherished love,
If the truth resides in Sastra, dwells in sky my hero son,
Wherefore linger we in sorrow since their earthly task is done?

IV

FUNERAL RITE

Victor of a deathful battle, sad Yudhishthir viewed the plain,
Friends and kinsmen, kings and chieftains, countless troops untimely slain,
And he spake to wise Sudharman pious priest of Kuru's race,
Unto Sanjay, unto Dhaumya, to Vidura full of grace,
Spake unto the brave Yuyutsu, Kuru's last surviving chief,
Spake to faithful Indrasena, and to warriors sunk in grief:
"Pious rites are due to foemen and to friends and kinsmen slain,
None shall lack a fitting funeral, none shall perish on the plain."
Wise Vidura and his comrades sped on sacred duty bound,
Sandalwood and scented aloes, fragrant oil and perfumes found,
Silken robes of costly splendour, fabrics by the artist wove,
Dry wood from the thorny jungle, perfume from the scented grove,
Shattered cars and splintered lances, hewed and ready for the fire,
Piled and ranged in perfect order into many a funeral pyre.
Kings and princes, noble warriors, were in rank and order laid,
And with streams of fragrant ghrita were the rich libations made,
Blazed the fire with wondrous radiance by the rich libations fed,
Sanctifying and consuming mortal remnants of the dead.
Brave Duryodhan and his brothers, Salya of the mighty car,
Bhurisravas king of nations, Jayadratha famed in war,
Abhimanyu son of Arjun, Lakshman proud Duryodhan's son,
Somadatta and the Srinjays famed for deeds of valour done,
Matsya's monarch proud Virata, Drupad fair Panchala's king,
And his sons, Panchala's princes, whose great deeds the minstrels sing,
Cultured monarch of Kosala and Gandhara's wily lord,
Karna, proud and peerless archer, matchless with his flaming sword,
Bhagadatta eastern monarch all resistless in his car,
Ghatotkacha son of Bhima, Alambusha famed in war,
And a hundred other monarchs all received the pious rite,
Till the radiance of the fire-light chased the shadows of the night!
Pitri-medha; due to fathers was performed with pious care,
Hymns and wails and lamentations mingled in the midnight air,
Sacred songs of rik and saman rose with women's piercing wail,
And the creatures of the wide earth heard the sound subdued and pale,
Smokeless and with radiant lustre shone each red and lighted pyre,
Like the planets of the bright sky throbbing with celestial fire!
Men in nations, countless, nameless, from each court and camp afar,
From the east and west collected, fell in Kuru-Kshetra's war,
Thousand fires for them were lighted, they received the pious rite,
Such was good Yudhishthir's mandate, such was wise Vidura's might,
All the dead were burned to ashes and the sacred rite was o'er,
Dhrita-rashtra and Yudhishthir slowly walked to Ganga's shore!

V

OBLATION TO KARNA

Sacred Ganga, ample-bosomed, sweeps along in regal pride,
Rolling down her limpid waters through high banks on either side,
Childless dames and weeping widows thither in their anguish came,
Due and holy rites to render to departed chiefs of fame,
Casting forth their jewelled girdles, gems and scarfs belaced with gold,
Gave oblations of the water unto warriors true and bold,
Unto fathers, unto husbands, unto sons in battle slayed,
Offerings of the sacred water sorrowing wives and mothers made.
And so great the host of mourners wending to perform the rite,
That their footsteps made a pathway in the sad and sacred site,
And the shelving banks of Ganga, peopled by the sorrowing train,
Wide-expanding, vast and sealike, formed a scene of woe and pain!
But a wave of keener sorrow swept o'er Pritha's heaving breast,
As unto her weeping children thus her secret she expressed:
"He, my sons, the peerless bowman, mighty in his battle-car,
Who by will of fate untimely was by Arjun slain in war,
He whom as the son of Radha, chariot-driver ye have thought,
But who shone with SURYA'S lustre as his countless foes he fought,
He who faced your stoutest warriors and in battle never failed,
Bravely led the Kuru forces and in danger never quailed,
He who knew no peer in prowess, owned in war no haughtier name,
Yielded life but not his honour and by death hath conquered fame,
He in truth who never faltered, never left his vow undone,
Offer unto him oblation, Karna was my eldest son!
Karna was your honoured elder and the Sun inspired his birth,
Karna in his rings and armour Sun-like trod the spacious earth!"
Pritha spake; the Pandav brothers groaned in penitence and pain,
And they wept in woe and anguish for the brother they had slain.
Hissing forth his sigh of anguish like a crushed and wounded snake,
Sad Yudhishthir to his mother thus his inward feelings spake:
Didst thou, mother, bear the hero fathomless like ocean dread,
Whose unfailing glistening arrows like its countless billows sped,
Didst thou bear that peerless archer all-resistless in his car,
Sweeping with the roar of ocean through the shattered ranks of war?
Didst thou hide the mighty warrior, mortal man of heavenly birth,
Crushing 'neath his arm of valour all his foemen on the earth,
Didst thou hide the birth and lineage of that chief of deathful ire,
As a man in folds of garments seeks to hide the flaming fire?
Arjun wielder of Gandiva was for us no truer stay
Than was Karna for the Kurus in the battle's dread array,
Monarchs matched not Karna's glory nor his deeds of valour done,
Midst the mighty car-borne warriors mightiest warrior Karna shone!
Woe to us! our eldest brother we have in the battle slain,
And our nearest dearest elder fell upon the gory plain,
Not the death of Abhimanyu from the fair Subhadra torn,
Not the slaughter of the princes by the proud Draupadi borne,
Not the fall of friends and kinsmen and Panchala's mighty host,
Like thy death afflicts my bosom, noble Karna loved and lost!
Monarch's empire, victor's glory, all the treasures earth can yield,
Righteous bliss and heavenly gladness, harvest of the heavenly field,
All that wish can shape and utter, all that nourish hope and pride,
All were ours, O noble Karna, hadst thou rested by our side,
And this carnage of the Kurus these sad eyes had never seen,
Peace had graced our blessed empire, happy would the earth have been!"
Long bewailed the sad Yudhishthir for his elder loved and dead,
And oblation of the water to the noble Karna made,
And the royal dames of Kuru viewed the sight with freshening pain,
Wept to see the good Yudhishthir offering to his brother slain,
And the widowed queen of Karna with the women of his house
Gave oblations to her hero, wept her loved and slaughtered spouse!
Done the rites to the, departed, done oblations to the dead,
Slowly then the sad survivors on the river's margin spread,
Far along the shore and sandbank of the sacred sealike stream
Maid and matron lave their bodies 'neath the morning's holy beam,
And ablutions done, the Kurus slow and sad and cheerless part,
Wend their way to far Hastina with a void and vacant heart.

MAHABHARATA BOOK XII

ASWA-MEDHA

(Sacrifice of the Horse)

THE real Epic ends with the war and the funerals of the deceased warriors. Much of what follows in the original Sanscrit poem is either episodical or comparatively recent interpolation. The great and venerable warrior Bhishma, still lying on his death bed, discourses for the instruction of the newly crowned Yudhishthir on various subjects like the Duties of Kings, the Duties of the Four Castes, and the Four Stages of Life. He repeats the discourses of other saints, of Bhrigu and Bharadwaja, of Manu and Brihaspati, of Vyasa and Suka, of Yajnavalkya and Janaka, of Narada and Nairayana. He explains Sankhya philosophy and Yoga philosophy, and lays down the laws of Marriage, the laws of Succession, the rules of Gifts, and the rules of Funeral Rites. He preaches the cult of Krishna, and narrates endless legends, tales, traditions, and myths about sages and saints, gods and mortal kings. All this is told in two Books containing about twenty-two thousand couplets, and forming nearly one-fourth of the entire Sanscrit Epic!
The reason of adding all this episodical and comparatively recent matter to the ancient Epic is not far to seek. The Epic became more popular with the nation at large than dry codes of law and philosophy, and generations of Brahmanical writers laboured therefore to insert in the Epic itself their rules of caste and moral conduct, their laws and philosophy. There is no more venerable character in the Epic than Bhishma, and these rules and laws have therefore been supposed to come from his lips on the solemn occasion of his death. As a storehouse of Hindu laws and traditions and moral rules these episodes are invaluable; but they form no part of the real Epic, they are not a portion of the leading story of the Epic, and we pass them by.
Bhishma dies and is cremated; but the endless exposition of laws, legends, and moral rules is not yet over. Krishna himself takes up the task in a new Book, and, as he has done once before in the Bhagavat-gita, he now once more explains to Arjun in the Anu-gita the great truths about Soul and Emancipation, Creation and the Wheel of Life, True Knowledge and Rites and Penance. The adventures of the sage Utanka, whom Krishna meets, then take up a good many pages. All this forms no part of the real Epic, and we pass it by.
Yudhishthir has in the meantime been crowned king of the Kurus at Hastinapura, and a posthumous child of Abhimanyu is named Parikshit, and is destined to succeed to the throne of the Kurus. But Yudhishthir's mind is still troubled with the thoughts of the carnage of the war, of which he considers himself guilty, and the great saint Vyasa advises the performance of the aswa medha, or the Sacrifice of the Horse, for the expiation of the sin.
The Sacrifice of the Horse was an ancient Hindu custom practised by kings exercising suzerain powers over surrounding kings. A horse was let free, and was allowed to wander from place to place, accompanied by the king's guard. If any neighbouring king ventured to detain the animal, it was a signal for war. If no king ventured to restrain the wanderer, it was considered a tacit mark of submission to the owner of the animal. And when the horse returned from its peregrinations, it was sacrificed with great pomp and splendour at a feast to which all neighbouring kings were invited.
Yudhishthir allowed the sacrificial horse to wander at will, and Arjun accompanied it. Wherever the horse was stopped, Arjun fought and conquered, and thus proclaimed the supremacy of Yudhishthir over all neighbouring potentates. After various wars and adventures in various regions, Arjun at last returned victorious with the steed to Hastinapura, and the sacrifice commenced. The description of the sacrifice is somewhat artificial, and concerns itself with rites and ceremonious details and gifts to Brahmans, and altogether bears unmistakable evidence of the interpolating hand of later priestly writers. Nevertheless we cannot exclude from this translation of the leading incidents of the Epic the last great and crowning act of Yudhishthir, now anointed monarch of Kuru land.
The portion translated in this Book forms Sections lxxxv. And parts of Sections lxxxviii. and lxxxix. of Book xiv. of the original text.

I

THE GATHERING

Victor of a hundred battles, Arjun bent his homeward way,
Following still the sacred charger free to wander as it may,
Strolling minstrels to Yudhishthir spake of the returning steed,
Spake of Arjun wending homeward with the victor's crown of meed,
And they sang of Arjun's triumph's in Gandhara's distant vale,
On the banks of Brahmaputra and in Sindhu's rocky dale.
Twelfth day came of Magha's bright moon and auspicious was the star,
Nigher came the victor Arjun from his conquests near and far,
Good Yudhishthir called his brothers, faithful twins and Bhima true,
Spake to them in gentle accents, and his words were grave and few:
"Bhima! Now returneth Arjun with the steed from many a fray,
So they tell me, noble brother, who have met him on the way,
And the time of aswa-medha day by day is drawing nigh,
Magha's full moon is approaching, and the winter passeth by,
Let the Brahmans versed in Vedas choose the sacrificial site,
For the feast of many nations, for the aswa-medha rite."
Bhima heard of Arjun's coming,--hero with the curly hair,--
And to do Yudhishthir's mandate did with gladsome heart repair,
Brahmans versed in sacrifices, cunning architects of fame,
Builders of each various altar with the son of Pritha came,
And upon a level greensward measured forth the sacred site,
Laid it out with halls and pathways for the sacrificial rite.
Mansions graced with gem and jewel round the bright arena shone,
Palaces of golden lustre glinted in the morning sun,
Gilt and blazoned with devices lofty columns stood around,
Graceful arches gold-surmounted spanned the consecrated ground,
Gay pavilions rose in beauty round the sacrificial site,
For the queens of crownéd monarchs wending to the holy rite,
Humbler dwellings rose for Brahmans, priests of learning and of fame,
Come to view Yudhishthir's yajna and to bless Yudhishthir's name.
Messengers with kindly greetings went to monarchs far-renowned,
Asked them to Hastina's city, to the consecrated ground,
And to please the great Yudhishthir came each king and chieftain bold,
With their slaves and dark-eye damsels, arms and horses, gems and gold,
Came and found a royal welcome in pavilions rich and high,
And the sealike voice of nations smote the echoing vault of sky!
With his greetings did Yudhishthir, for each chief and king of men,
Cooling drinks and sumptuous viands, beds of regal pride ordain,
Stables filled with corn and barley and with milk and luscious cane
Greeted tall and warlike tuskers and the steeds with flowing mane.
Munis from their hermitages to the sacred yajna came,
Rishis from the grove and forest lisping BRAHMA'S holy name,
Famed Acharyas versed in Vedas to the city held their way,
Brahmacharins with grass-girdle, chanting sweet the saman lay,
Welcomed Kuru's pious monarch, saint and sage and man of grace,
And with gentle condescension showed each priest his fitting place.
Skilled mechanics, cunning artists, raised the structures for the rite,
And with every needful object graced the sacrificial site,
Every duty thus completed, joyful Yudhishthir's mind,
And he blessed his faithful brothers with an elder's blessings kind.

II

THE FEASTING

Men in nations are assembled, hymns are sung by saint and sage,
And in learnéd disputations keen disputants oft engage,
And the concourse of the monarchs view the splendour of the rite,
Like the glorious sky of INDRA is the sacrificial site!
Bright festoons and flaming streamers are on golden arches hung,
Groups of men and gay-dressed women form a bright and joyous throng,
Jars of cool and sparkling waters, vessels rich with gold inlaid,
Costly cups and golden vases are in order due arrayed.
Sacrificial stakes of timber with their golden fastenings graced,
Consecrated by the mantra are in sumptuous order placed,
Countless creatures of the wide earth, fishes from the lake and flood.
Buffaloes and bulls from pasture, beasts of prey from jungle wood,
Birds and every egg-born creature, insects that from moisture spring,
Denizens of cave and mountain for the sacrifice they bring.
Noble chiefs and mighty monarchs gaze in wonder on the site,
Filled with every living object, corn and cattle for the rite,
Curd and cake and sweet confection are for feasting Brahmans spread,
And a hundred thousand people are with sumptuous viands fed!
With the accents of the rain-cloud drum and trumpet raise their voice,
Speak Yudhishthir's noble bounty, bid the sons of men rejoice,
Day by day the holy yajna grows in splendour and in joy,
Rice in hillocks feeds all comers, maid and matron, man and boy,
Lakes of curd and lakes of butter speak Yudhishthir's bounteous feast,
Nations of the Jambu-dwipa share it, greatest and the least!
For a hundred diverse races from a hundred regions came,
Ate of good Yudhishthir's bounty, sang of good Yudhishthir's fame,
And a thousand proud attendants, gay with earrings, garland-graced,
Carried food unto the feeders and the sweet confections placed,
Viands fit for crownéd monarchs were unto the Brahmans given,
Drinks of rich and cooling fragrance like the nectar-drink of heaven!

III

SACRIFICE OF ANIMALS

Victor of a hundred battles, Arjun came with conquering steed,
Vyasa herald of the Vedas bade the holy rite proceed:
"For the day is come, Yudhishthir, let the sacrifice be done,
Let the priests repeat the mantra golden as the morning sun!
Threefold bounteous be thy presents and a threefold merit gain,
For thy wealth of gold is ample, be thy gifts like summer's rain,
May the threefold rich performance purify the darkening stain,
Blood of warriors and of kinsmen slaughtered on the gory plain,
May the yajna's pure ablution wash thee of the cruel sin,
And the meed of sacrificers may the good Yudhishthir win!
Vyasa spake; and good Yudhishthir took the diksha of the rite,
And commenced the aswa-medha gladdening every living wight,
Round the altar's holy lustre moved the priests with sacred awe,
Swerved not from the rule of duty, failed not in the sacred law.
Done the rite of pure pravargya with the pious hymn and lay,
To the task of abhishava priests and Brahmans led the way,
And the holy Soma-drinkers pressed the sacred Soma plant,
And performed the pure savana with the solemn saman chant.
Bounty waits on squalid hunger, gifts dispel the suppliant's fear,
Gold revives the poor and lowly, mercy wipes the mourner's tear,
Tender care relieves the stricken by the gracious king's command,
Charity with loving sweetness spreads her smile o'er all the land!
Day by day the aswa-medha doth with sacred rites proceed,
Day by day on royal bounty poor and grateful myriads feed,
And adept in six Vedangas, strict in vow and rich in lore,
Sage preceptors, holy teachers, grew in virtue ever more!
Six good stakes of vilwa timber, six of hard khadira wood,
Six of seasoned sarvavarnin, on the place of yajna stood,
Two were made of devadaru, pine that on Himalay grows,
One was made of wood of slesha, which the sacrificer knows,
Other stakes of golden lustre quaint with curious carving done,
Draped in silk and gold-brocaded like the constellations shone!
And the consecrated altar built and raised of bricks of gold,
Shone in splendour like the altar Daksha built in days of old,
Eighteen cubits square the structure, four deep layers of brick in height,
With a spacious winged triangle like an eagle in its flight!
Beasts whose flesh is pure and wholesome, dwellers of the lake or sky,
Priests assigned each varied offering to each heavenly power on high,
Bulls of various breed and colour, steeds of mettle true and tried,
Other creatures, full three hundred, to the many stakes were tied.
Deva-rishis viewed the feasting, sweet Gandharvas woke the song,
Apsaras like gleams of sunlight on the greensward tripped along,
Kinnaras and Kim-purushas mingled in the holy rite,
Siddhas of austerest penance stood around the sacred site,
Vyasa's great and gifted pupils who the holy hymns compiled,
Helped the royal aswa-medha, on the royal yajna smiled!
From the bright ethereal mansions heavenly minstrel Narad came,
Chitra-sena woke the music, singer of celestial fame,
Cheered by more than mortal music priests their holy task begun,
And Yudhishthir's fame and virtue with a brighter lustre shone!

VI

SACRIFICE OF THE HORSE

Birds and beasts were immolated for the sacrificial food,
Then before the sacred charger priests in rank and order stood,
And by rules of Veda guided slew the horse of noble breed,
Placed Draupadi, Queen of yajna, by the slain and lifeless steed,
Hymns and gifts and deep devotion sanctified the noble Queen,
Woman's true and stainless virtue, woman's worth and wisdom keen!
Priests adept in sacred duty cooked the steed with pious rite,
And the steam of welcome fragrance sanctified the sacred site,
Good Yudhishthir and his brothers, by the rules by rishis spoke,
Piously inhaled the fragrance and the sin-destroying smoke!
Severed limbs and sacred fragments of the courser duly dressed,
Priests upon the blazing altar as a pious offering placed,
Vyasa herald of the Vedas raised his voice in holy song,
Blessed Hastina's righteous monarch and the many-nationed throng!

V

GIFTS

Unto Brahmans gave Yudhishthir countless nishkas of bright gold,
Unto sage and saintly Vyasa all his realm and wealth untold,
But the bard and ancient rishi who the holy Vedas spake,
Rendered back the monarch's present, earthly gift he might not take!
"Thine is Kuru's ancient empire, rule the nations of the earth,
Gods have destined thee as monarch from the moment of thy birth,
Gold and wealth and costly present let the priests and Brahmans hoard,
Be it thine to rule thy subjects as their father and their lord!
Krishna too in gentle accents to the doubting monarch said:
"Vyasa. speaketh word of wisdom and his mandate be obeyed!"
From the rishi good Yudhishthir then received the Kuru-land,
With a threefold gift of riches gladdened all the priestly band,
Pious priests and grateful nations to their distant regions went,
And his share of presents Vyasa to the ancient Pritha sent.
Fame and virtue Kuru's monarch by the aswa-medha wins,
And the rite of pure ablution cleanses all Yudhishthir's sins,
And be stands amid his brothers, brightly beaming, pure and high,
Even as INDRA stands encircled by the dwellers of the sky,
And the concourse of the monarchs grace Yudhishthir's regal might,
As the stars and radiant planets grace the stillness of the night!
Gems and jewels in his bounty, gold and garments rich and rare,
Gave Yudhishthir to each monarch, slaves and damsels passing fair,
Loving gifts to dear relations gave the king of righteous fame,
And the grateful parting monarchs blessed Yudhishthir's hallowed name.
Last of all with many tear-drops Krishna mounts his lofty car,
Faithful still in joy or sorrow, faithful still in peace or war,
Arjun's comrade. Bhima's helper, good Yudhishthir's friend of yore,
Krishna leaves Hastina's mansions for the sea-girt Dwarka's shore!

MAHABHARATA - CONCLUSION

THE real Epic ends with the war and with the funerals of the deceased warriors, as we have stated before, and Yudhishthir's Horse-Sacrifice is rather a crowning ornament than a part of the solid edifice. What follows the sacrifice is in no sense a part of the real Epic; it consists merely of concluding personal narratives of the heroes who have figured in the poem.
Dhrita-rashtra retires into a forest with his queen Gandhari, and Pritha, the mother of the Pandav brothers, accompanies them. In the solitude of the forest the old Dhrita-rashtra sees as in a vision the spirits of all the slain warriors, his sons and grandsons and kins men, clad and armed as they were in battle. The spirits disappear in the morning at the bidding of Vyasa, who had called them up. At last Dhrita-rashtra and Gandhari and Pritha are burnt to death in a forest conflagration, death by fire being considered holy.
Krishna at Dwarka meets with strange and tragic adventures. The Vrishnis and the Andhakas become irreligious and addicted to drinking, and fall a prey to internal dissensions. Valadeva and Krishna die shortly after, and the city of the Yadavas is swallowed up by the ocean.
Then follow the two concluding Books of the Epic, the Great Journey and the Ascent to Heaven, so beautifully rendered into English by Sir Edwin Arnold. On hearing of the death of their friend Krishna, the Pandav brothers place Prakshit, the grandson of Arjun, on the throne, and retire to the Himalayas. Draupadi drops down dead on the way, then Sahadeva, then Nakula, then Arjun, and then Bhima. Yudhishthir alone proceeds to heaven in person in a celestial car.
There Yudhishthir undergoes some trial, bathes in the celestial Ganges, and rises with a celestial body. He then meets Krishna, now in his heavenly form, blazing in splendour and glory. He meets his brothers whom he had lost on earth, but who are now Immortals in the sky, clad in heavenly forms. INDRA himself appears before Yudhishthir, and introduces him to others who were dear to him on earth, and are dear to him in heaven. Thus speaks INDRA to Yudhishthir:
"This is She the fair Immortal! Her no human mother bore,
Sprung from altar as Draupadi human shape for thee she wore,
By the Wielder of the Trident she was waked to form and life,
Born in royal Drupad's mansion, righteous man, to be thy wife,
These are bright aérial beings, went for thee to lower earth,
Borne by Drupad's stainless daughter as thy children took their birth!
This is monarch Dhrita-rashtra who doth o'er Gandharvas reign,
This is peerless archer Karna, erst on earth by Arjun slain,
Like the Sun in ruddy splendour, for the Sun inspired his birth,
As the son of chariot-driver he was known upon the earth!
Midst the Sadhyas and the Maruts, 'midst Immortals pure and bright,
Seek thy friends the faithful Vrishnis matchless in their warlike might.
Seek and find the brave Satyaki who upheld thy cause so well,
Seek the Bhojas and Andhakas who in Kuru-kshetra fell!
This is gallant Abhimanyu whom the fair Subhadra bore,
Still unconquered in the battle, slain by fraud in yonder shore,
Abhimanyu son of Arjun, wielding Arjun's peerless might,
With the Lord of Night he ranges, beauteous as the Lord of Night!
This, Yudhishthir, is thy father, by thy mother joined in heaven,
Oft he comes into my mansions in his flowery chariot driven.
This is Bhishma stainless warrior, by the Vasus is his place,
By the god of heavenly wisdom teacher Drona sits in grace!
These and other mighty warriors in the earthly battle slain,
By their valour and their virtue walk the bright ethereal plain,
They have cast their mortal bodies, crossed the radiant gate of heaven,
For to win celestial mansions unto mortals it is given,
Let them strive by kindly action, gentle speech, endurance long,
Brighter life and holier future into sons of men belong!"

**********************************************************

MAHABHARATA - CONCLUSION

THE real Epic ends with the war and with the funerals of the deceased warriors, as we have stated before, and Yudhishthir's Horse-Sacrifice is rather a crowning ornament than a part of the solid edifice. What follows the sacrifice is in no sense a part of the real Epic; it consists merely of concluding personal narratives of the heroes who have figured in the poem.
Dhrita-rashtra retires into a forest with his queen Gandhari, and Pritha, the mother of the Pandav brothers, accompanies them. In the solitude of the forest the old Dhrita-rashtra sees as in a vision the spirits of all the slain warriors, his sons and grandsons and kins men, clad and armed as they were in battle. The spirits disappear in the morning at the bidding of Vyasa, who had called them up. At last Dhrita-rashtra and Gandhari and Pritha are burnt to death in a forest conflagration, death by fire being considered holy.
Krishna at Dwarka meets with strange and tragic adventures. The Vrishnis and the Andhakas become irreligious and addicted to drinking, and fall a prey to internal dissensions. Valadeva and Krishna die shortly after, and the city of the Yadavas is swallowed up by the ocean.
Then follow the two concluding Books of the Epic, the Great Journey and the Ascent to Heaven, so beautifully rendered into English by Sir Edwin Arnold. On hearing of the death of their friend Krishna, the Pandav brothers place Prakshit, the grandson of Arjun, on the throne, and retire to the Himalayas. Draupadi drops down dead on the way, then Sahadeva, then Nakula, then Arjun, and then Bhima. Yudhishthir alone proceeds to heaven in person in a celestial car.
There Yudhishthir undergoes some trial, bathes in the celestial Ganges, and rises with a celestial body. He then meets Krishna, now in his heavenly form, blazing in splendour and glory. He meets his brothers whom he had lost on earth, but who are now Immortals in the sky, clad in heavenly forms. INDRA himself appears before Yudhishthir, and introduces him to others who were dear to him on earth, and are dear to him in heaven. Thus speaks INDRA to Yudhishthir:
"This is She the fair Immortal! Her no human mother bore,
Sprung from altar as Draupadi human shape for thee she wore,
By the Wielder of the Trident she was waked to form and life,
Born in royal Drupad's mansion, righteous man, to be thy wife,
These are bright aérial beings, went for thee to lower earth,
Borne by Drupad's stainless daughter as thy children took their birth!
This is monarch Dhrita-rashtra who doth o'er Gandharvas reign,
This is peerless archer Karna, erst on earth by Arjun slain,
Like the Sun in ruddy splendour, for the Sun inspired his birth,
As the son of chariot-driver he was known upon the earth!
Midst the Sadhyas and the Maruts, 'midst Immortals pure and bright,
Seek thy friends the faithful Vrishnis matchless in their warlike might.
Seek and find the brave Satyaki who upheld thy cause so well,
Seek the Bhojas and Andhakas who in Kuru-kshetra fell!
This is gallant Abhimanyu whom the fair Subhadra bore,
Still unconquered in the battle, slain by fraud in yonder shore,
Abhimanyu son of Arjun, wielding Arjun's peerless might,
With the Lord of Night he ranges, beauteous as the Lord of Night!
This, Yudhishthir, is thy father, by thy mother joined in heaven,
Oft he comes into my mansions in his flowery chariot driven.
This is Bhishma stainless warrior, by the Vasus is his place,
By the god of heavenly wisdom teacher Drona sits in grace!
These and other mighty warriors in the earthly battle slain,
By their valour and their virtue walk the bright ethereal plain,
They have cast their mortal bodies, crossed the radiant gate of heaven,
For to win celestial mansions unto mortals it is given,
Let them strive by kindly action, gentle speech, endurance long,
Brighter life and holier future into sons of men belong!"

GLOSSARY

ABHISHAVA, a religious rite.
ABBHISHEKA, sacred ablution.
ACHARYA, preceptor.
AGNIROTRA, a sacrifice to the fire performed with a daily offering of milk morning and evening.
AGRAYANA, an autumn harvest festival performed with offering of new grain.
AJYA, a form of sacrificial offering.
APRAMATTA, without pride or passion.
APSARA, celestial nymph.
ARGHYA, an offering due to an honoured guest.
ARTA, an honourable person, an Aryan.
ASOKA, name of a flower, orange and scarlet.
ASRAMA, hermitage.
ASURA, demon, enemies of gods.
ASWAKARNA, a flower.
ASWAMEDHA, a horse-sacrifice.
BAIDURYA, lapis-lazuli.
BHINDIPALA, a weapon of war.
BRAHMACHARIN, one who has taken vows and lives an austere life.
CHAITYA, a Shrine or temple.
CHAKRAVAKA, a ruddy goose, the male and female being regarded as a pattern of conjugal love.
CHAMPAKA, a tree with yellow blossom also the flower of the tree.
CHANDAN, sandal-tree; also the fragrant sandal paste.
CHOWRI (properly CHAMARI), the yak, the tail of which is used as a fan.
DAKSHINA, gifts made at sacrifices.
DASAPUTRA, son of a slave.
DEVA, gods.
DEVADARU (lit. heavenly tree), the Himalayan pine.
DEVA-KANYA, celestial maid.
DEVA-RISHI, celestial saint.
DRARMA-RAJA, monarch by reason of piety and virtue.
DIKSHA, initiation into a sacred rite.
DUNDUBHI, drum.
GANDHARVA, celestial musician.
GANDIVA, Arjun's bow.
GAURI, a goddess, wife of Siva.
GURITA or GHEE, clarified butter.
GRAHA, the being of darkness who is supposed to seize the sun and the moon at eclipse; a planet with malignant influence.
GURU, preceptor.
HANSA, swan or goose.
HOMA, a sacrificial rite or offering.
HOWDA, the seat on an elephant.
IDA, a form of sacrificial offering.
KANKA, a bird of prey.
KARMA, act which brings its fruit in life or in after life.
KARNIKARA, a tree; also its flower.
KARTIKA, October-November.
KAUTUKA, wedding investiture with the nuptial chord.
KETAKA, a strong-scented plant.
KHADIRA, a tree, a kind of acacia.
KIMPURUSHA, a class of imaginary beings.
KINNARA, a fabulous being with the body of a man and the face of a horse, the counterpart of the Greek Centaur.
KINSUKA, a flower.
KOKIL, an Indian bird answering to the English cuckoo, and prized for its sweet note.
KUSA, grass strewn round the altar at sacrifice.
LODHRA, a tree.
MAGHA, a, winter month.
MAHAMATRA, a royal officer.
MAHUA (properly MADHUKA), a tree, Bassia latifolia.
MAHUT or MAHAMATRA, elephant driver.
MANTRA, hymn, incantation.
MAYA, illusion.
MLECHCHA, outer barbarian. All who were not Hindus were designated by this name.
MRIDANGA, a kind of drum.
MUNI, saint, anchorite.
NAGA, snake; a being of the lower or snake world; also a tribe in Eastern India.
NISHADA, an aboriginal race.
NISHKA, a coin, often used as ornament.
NULLA, a rivulet or rill.
NYAGRODRA, the banyan or Indian fig-tree.
PALASA, a tree bearing large red blossoms with no scent.
PANKHA (from Sanscrit paksha, wing), a fan.
PATAHA, a kind of drum.
PISHACHA, ghost or goblin.
PITRI-MEDHA, sacrifice and offering due to departed ancestors.
PRAVARGYA, a religious rite.
PRIYANGU, a fragrant ointment.
PUNNAGA, a flower tree.
PURANA, ancient and sacred chronicles.
PURUSHA, the soul.
RAHU, the being of darkness who is supposed to seize the sun and the moon at eclipses.
RAJASUYA, an imperial sacrifice.
RAKSHA, a class of fabulous beings represented as demons and night rangers, and wearing various shapes at will. The inhabitants of Ceylon, with whom the hero of the Epic fought, are represented as Rakshas.
RIK, hymn recited at sacrifice.
RISHI, saint or anchorite.
SABDA-BEDHI, an archer who shoots an invisible game by hearing the
sound it makes.
SAKTI, javelin.
SALA, a tall forest tree.
SAMADHI, austere religious practice.
SAMAN, hymn chanted at sacrifice.
SAMI, a dark leafy tree.
SANKHA, conch-shell used as a sounding instrument in wars and in festivities.
SAPTA-PARNA, a plant with a seven branched leaf.
SARASA, the Indian crane.
SARVAVARNIN, an Indian tree.
SASTRA, sacred scriptures.
SATAGHNI, a weapon of war, supposed to kill a hundred men at one discharge.
SAVANA, a religious rite.
SAVITRI, a hymn; also the goddess of the hymn.
SIDDHA, holy celestial beings.
SLESHA, an Indian tree.
SRAVANA, July-August.
SRI, the goddess of beauty and wealth, wife of Vishnu.
SUPARNA, celestial bird.
SWARGA, heaven.
SWASTI, a word uttered to dispel evil.
SWAYAMVARA, a form of bridal, the bride selecting her husband from among suitors.
TALA, a Species of palm-tree bearing a large round fruit; also the fruit of the tree.
TAMALA, a graceful leafy tree.
TIRTHA, holy rites at the crossing of rivers.
TRIRATRA, a three nights' penance and fast.
USIRA, a kind of hard wood.
VANARA, monkey. T'he hill tribes of Southern India, who formed an alliance with the hero of the Epic, are represented as Vanaras.
VEDA, the most ancient and holiest scriptures of the Hindus.
VIJAYA, Karna's bow.
VILWA, a tree bearing an edible fruit.
VINA, the lyre.
YAJNA, sacrifice.
YATO DHARMA STATO JAYAH, where there is virtue there is victory.
YOJANA, a measure of distance equal to about nine English miles.
YUGA, the period of the world's existence.

( My humble salutations to Sreeman Romesh C Dutt for the collection)