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Section Two
The Mahabharata
Sabha Parva
or Book of the Assembly-Hall
CANTO I
And before Krishna’s face to great Urjuun
Maia with clasped hands bending; mild and boon
His voice as gratitude’s: “Me the strong ire
Had slain of Krishna or the hungry fire
Consumed: by thee I live, O Kuuntie’s son:
What shall I do for thy sake?” And Urjuun,
“Paid is thy debt. Go thou and prosper: love
Repays the lover: this our friendship prove.”
“Noble thy word and like thyself;” returned
The Titan, “yet in me a fire has burned
Some deed to do for love’s sake. He am I,
The Titan architect and poet high,
The maker: something give me to create.”
Urjuun replied, “If from the grasp of Fate
Rescued by me thou pray’st, then is the deed
Sufficient, Titan: I will take no meed.
Yet will I not deny thee: for my friend
Do somewhat and thy debt to me shall end.”
Then by the Titan questioned Vaasudave
Pondered a while what boon were best to have.
At length he answered: “Let a hall be raised
Peerless, thou great artificer high-praised, —
If thou wilt needs do somewhat high designed, —
For Yudishthere such hall as may thy mind
Imagine. Wonderful the pile shall be,
No mortal man shall copy although he
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Labour to grasp it, nor on transient earth
Another equal wonder shall have birth.
Vast let it be. Let human and divine
And the Titanic meet in one design.”
Joyful the builder took the word and high
The Pandove’s hall he made imperially.
But first the heroes to the King repair,
Just Yudishthere, and all their story there
Tell out: the Titan also they present,
Their living proof of great accomplishment.
Nobly he welcomed was by that just King.
There in high ease, befriended, sojourning
The life of elder gods dethroned of old
The Titan to the Pandove princes told.
Short space for rest took the creative mind
And inly planned and mightily designed
A hall imperial for those mighty ones.
With Krishna then consulting and the sons
Of Pritha on a day of sacred light
All fate-appeasing ceremonies right
He ordered and with rice in sugared milk
Sated the priests, silver and herds and silk.
In energy of genius next he chose
Ten thousand cubits, mapped a mighty close,
Region delightful where divinely sweet
The joy of all the seasons seemed to meet.
Four were the sides, ten thousand cubits all.
This was the measure of the Pandove’s hall.
But in the Khandav plain abode in ease
Junnardun mid the reverent ministries
Of the great five: their loves his home renew.
But for his father’s sight a yearning grew
And drew him thence. He of the monarch just
And Pritha craved departure. In the dust
His head he lowered at her worshipped feet,
He for the whole world’s homage only meet.
Him she embraced and kissed his head. Next he
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His sister dear encountered lovingly.
Wet were his eyes as with low words and few
Pregnant and happy, admirably true
He greeted that divine fair girl and heard
Of her sweet eloquence many a tender word
That to her kin should travel; reverent
She bowed her lovely head. And Krishna went
To Draupadie and Dhaum and took of these
Various farewell, — soft words her heart to ease,
But to the priest yielded the man divine
Obeisance just and customary sign.
Thereafter with Urjuun the hero wise
His brothers met and in celestial guise,
Like Indra with the great immortals round,
All rites that to safe journeying redound
Performing, bath and pure ablution made
And worship due with salutation paid,
Garlanded, praying, in rich gems arrayed,
All incenses that breathe beneath the sun
To gods and Brahmans offered. These things done
Departure now was next. Stately he came
Outward and all of venerable name
Who bore the sacred office, had delight
Of fruit and grain yet in the husk and white
Approved curds, much wealth; and last the ground
He trod and traced the gyre of blessing round.
So with a fortunate day and fortunate star
And moment in his chariot built for war,
Golden, swift-rushing, with the Bird for sign
And banner, sword and discus, bow divine
And mace round hung, and horses twin of stride,
Sugreve and Shaibya, went the lotus-eyed.
And in his love the monarch Yudishthere
Mounted, Daaruik, the great charioteer,
Put quite aside. Himself he grasped the rein,
Himself he drove the chariot o’er the plain.
And great Urjuuna mounted, seized the white
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Wind-bringer with the golden staff and bright
And called with his strong arm the circling wind:
And Bhema and the princes twin behind
Followed, and citizen and holy priest:
With the horizon the procession ceased.
All these with the far-conquering Krishna wend.
As a high Sage whom his disciples tend,
So for a league they journeyed; then no more
He suffered but Yudishthere’s will o’erbore
And forced return; then grappled to his breast
Urjuun beloved. Greeting well the rest
Religiously the monarch’s feet embraced
Govinda, but the Pandove raised and kissed
The head of Krishna beautiful-eyed. “Go then”
He murmured; yet even so the word was vain
Until reunion promised. Hardly at length
He stayed them with entreaty’s utmost strength
From following him on foot; so glad has gone
Like Indra thundering to the immortals’ town.
But they stood following with the eyes their light
Until he vanished from the paths of sight.
Ev’n then their hearts, though distance now conceals,
Run yet behind his far invisible wheels.
But the swift chariot takes their joy and pride,
Too swift, alas! from eyes unsatisfied
With that dear vision, and reluctant, slow,
In thoughts that still with Krishna’s horsehooves go,
Ceasing at last to their own town again
Silent they wend, the lion lords of men.
So entered the immortal Yudishthere
Girt round with friends his glorious city; here
He left them and in bowers for pleasure made
With Draupadie the godlike hero played.
But Krishna, glad of soul, in whirling car
Came speeding to his noble town afar
With Daaruik and the hero Saatyakie.
Swift as the great God’s winged favourite he
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Entered, and all the Yadove lords renowned
Came honouring him, with one the chief and crowned.
And Krishna stayed his father old to greet
And Ahuik and his glorious mother’s feet
And Bullaraam, his brother. His own sons
He next embraced and all their little ones.
Last of his elders leave he took and went
To Rookminnie’s fair house in glad content.
In Dwarca he; but the great Titan Mai
Still pondered and imagined cunningly
A jewelled brightness in his thought begun,
An audience-hall supreme for Hades’ son.
So with the conqueror unparalleled,
Urjuun, the Titan now this discourse held.
“To the great hill I go and soon return,
Whose northern peaks from Coilas upward burn.
There when the Titans sacrifice of yore
Intended by the water Windusor,
Rich waste of fine material was left,
Wondrous, of stone a variegated weft
That for the mighty audience-hall was stored
Of Vrishapurvun, the truth-speaking lord.
Thither I wend and make, if yet endure
All that divine material bright and pure,
The Pandove’s hall, a glory to behold,
Admirable, set with jewelry and gold
Taking the heart to pleasure. These besides
A cruel mace in Windusor abides,
Massive endurance, studded aureate,
Ponderous, a death of foes, commensurate
With many thousand more in murderous will.
There after slaughter huge of foes it still
Lies by a king relinquished. This believe
For Bheme created as for thee Gandeve.
There too the mighty conch Varunian lies:
Thunders God-given swell its Ocean voice.
Expect these from my hand infallibly.”
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Thus saying went the Titan hastily
To the north-eastern edge of heaven where high
Soars Mainaac hill into the northward sky
From Coilas. Golden soar its ridges large
And noble gems it stores and bright the marge
Of Windusor. The high conceiving Lord,
King of all creatures and by worlds adored,
Here grandiose offerings gave and sacrifice
By hundreds, and with excellent device,
For beauty not to old tradition, made
Pillars of sacrifice with gems inlaid
And monumental temples massed with gold.
Long here enduring Bhogiruth the bold
Through tedious seasons dwelt, yearning to see
Ganges, his self-named river Bhaagirothie.
Nor these alone but he, the Argus-eyed
Lord of imperial Sachi, to his side
Victory by sacrifice compelled. Creating
World systems, energy irradiating
He sits here whom the awful ghosts attend,
Shiva, who no beginning has nor end.
Nur and Naraian there and Brahma there
And Hades and the Immoveable repair, —
Revolving when a thousand ages wend,
To absolve with sacrifice the cycle’s end.
Here now ambitious of religion gave
Long years his mighty offerings Vaasudave,
Devoutly, and bright temples raised their head,
Memorial columns golden-garlanded,
Unnumbered, multitudinous, immense.
Thither went Maia and recovered thence
Conch-shell and mace and for the audience-hall
The old Titanic stone marmoreal.
All mighty wealth the servile giants guard,
The Titan genius gathered and prepared
His famous hall unparalleled, divine,
Where all the jewels of the world combine.
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To Bheme he gave that mighty mace, the shell
God-given called, whose cry unutterable
When from the great conch’s ocean mouth ’tis hurled
Far borne, trembling of creatures fills the world,
To great Urjuuna. But immense the hall
Ten thousand cubits spread its bulk and all
Its sides ten thousand, upon mighty boles
Columnar elevate: nor either rolls
The sun through heaven, moon nor vast fire so bright.
Slaying the sunshine with superior light
It blazed as if aflame, most luminous, white,
Celestial, large, raised like a cloud to soar
Against the heavens whose lustre it o’erbore.
Nor weariness nor sorrow enter might
That wide and noble palace of delight.
Of fair material was it made, the walls
And arches jewelled were of those rich halls.
Such wonder of creative genius won
The World’s Designer to comparison.
For neither Brahma’s roof nor Vishnu’s high
Might equal this for glorious symmetry.
No, not Sudhurma, Indra’s council hall,
With Maia’s cunning strove. At Maia’s call
Eight thousand Helots of the Giant blood
Upbore the pile and dreadful sentries stood
Travellers on wind, huge-bodied, horrible,
Shell-eared, far-strikers, with bloodshot eyes and fell.
And in the middle a lotus-lake he made
Unparalleled, white lotuses displayed,
And birds innumerable and all the stems
Of that fair blossom were of beauteous gems
And all the leaves were sapphires: through them rolled
Gold tortoises and wondrous fish of gold.
Marble mosaic was the stair: the wave
Translucent ran its edges fine to lave,
Wrinkled with soft cool winds that over it sped.
A rain of pearl drops on the floor was shed.
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And seats from slabs of precious stone combined
The marble banks of that fair water lined.
And all around it ever-flowering trees
Of various race hung dark and huge with ease
Of cool delightful shade, sweet-smelling woods
And quiet waters where the white swan broods
And ducks and waders of the ripples. Sweet
The wind came from them, fragrance in its feet
The lotus gave and lily of the land,
And with its booty the great brothers fanned.
Full fourteen months he laboured: the fifteenth
Saw ready jewelled arch and luminous plinth.
Then only came the Titan and declared
To the just King his mighty hall prepared.
Ceremony of entrance Yudishthere
Then held. Thousands of Brahmins luscious cheer
Of rice with sugared milk enjoyed wherein
Honey was mingled; flesh besides they win
Of boar and stag and all roots eatable
And fruits and sesamum-rice that tastes full well
And grain of offering and pedary,
Yea, meats of many natures variously
Eaten and chewed, of drinks a vast array;
And robes brought newly from the loom that day
Were given, all possible garlands scented sweetly
To Brahmins from all regions gathering, meetly
Presented, and to each a thousand cows.
O then was air all thunder with their vows:
The din of blessing touched the very skies.
With these the notes of instruments arise
Varied, celestial, and sweet fumes untold.
Before the son of Hades mighty-souled
Wrestlers and mimes made show and those who play
With fencing staves and jongleurs. For that day
He who installed the deities, worshipping,
Was greatest of the Kuurus and a king.
He by his brothers hemmed, high worship done,
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With saint and hero for companion,
In that his palace admirably bright,
Like Indra in his heaven, took delight.
CANTO II
* * * * * * * * * * But when Yudishthere had heard
The sage’s speech, his heart was moved with sighs.
He coveted Imperial Sacrifice.
All bliss went from him. Only to his thought
The majesty of royal saints was brought
By sacrifice exalted, Paradise
Acquired augustly, and before his eyes
He most was luminous who in heaven shone,
Heaven by sacrificial merit won.
He too that offering would absolve; so now
Receiving reverence with a courteous brow,
The assembly broke, to meditate retiring
On that great sacrifice of his desiring.
Frequent the thought and ever all its length
His mind leaned that way. Yet though huge his strength,
His heroism though admired, the King
Forgot not Right, but pondered how this thing
Might touch the peoples, whether well or ill.
For just was Yudishthere and courted still
His people and with vast, impartial mind
Served all, nor ever from this word declined,
“To each his own; nor shall the King disturb
With wrath or violence Right, but these shall curb.”
So was all speech of men one grand acclaim;
The nation as a father trusted him:
No hater had he in his whole realm’s bound,
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By the sweet name of Enemiless renowned.
And through his gracious government upheld
By Bhema’s force and foreign battle quelled
By the two-handed might of great Urjuun;
Sahadave’s cultured equity and boon
Necoola’s courteous mood to all men shown,
The thriving provinces were void of fear;
Strife was forgotten and each liberal year
The rains were measured to desire; no man
The natural limit of his course outran:
Usury, tillage, rearing, merchandise
Throve with good government and sacrifice
Prospered; rack-renting was not nor unjust
Extortion; from the land was pestilence thrust,
And mad calamity of fire unknown
Became while this just monarch had his own.
Robbers and cheats and royal favourites
Were now not heard of to infringe men’s rights
Nor the king’s harm nor mutual injury
Intrigue. To yield into his treasury
Their taxes traders came and princes high
On the sixfold pretexts of policy,
Or at Yudishthere’s court good grace to win.
Even greedy, passionate, luxurious men
His just rule to the common welfare turned.
He in the glory of all virtues burned,
An all-pervading man, by all adored, —
An emperor and universal lord
Bearing upon his shoulders the whole State.
And from the neatherd to the twice-born great
All in his wide domains that lived and moved,
Him more than father, more than mother loved.
He now his brothers and his ministers
Summoning severally their mind infers
And often with repeated subtle speech
Solicitous questions and re-questions each.
All with one cry unanimous advise
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To institute Imperial Sacrifice.
“O king,” they said, “the man by God designed
Who has acquired the Oceanic mind
Of kingship, not with this bounds his pretence,
But hungers for imperial excellence.
In thee it dwells, high Cow-rove; we thy friends
See clear that Fate this sacrifice intends.
To complete heroes it is subject. Men
Who centre chivalry within them, gain
Its sanction when with ancient chants the fires
Are heaped by sages, lords of their desires
Through self-control intense. The serpentine
And all rites other in this one rite twine.
And he who at its end is safely crowned
Is as World Conqueror, is as King renowned.
Puissance is thine, great-armed, and we are thine.
O King, soon then shall Empire crown thy line:
O King, debate no longer; aim thy will
At Sacrifice Imperial.” So they still
Advised their King together and apart,
And deep their accents sunk into his heart.
Bold was their speech, rang pleasant to his ear,
Seemed excellent and just, yet Yudishthere
Still pondered though he knew his puissance well.
Again he bade his hardy brothers tell
Their mind and priests high-souled and ministers:
With Dhaumya and Dwypaian too confers,
Wise and deliberate he. “Speak justly, friends,
What happy way my hard desire attends.
Hard is the sacrifice imperial meant
For an imperial mind’s accomplishment.”
All answered with a seasonable voice:
“Just King, thine is that mind and thou the choice
Of Fate for this high ceremony renowned.”
Sweet did the voice of friends and flamens sound:
Yet still he curbed himself and still he thought.
His yearning for the people’s welfare wrought
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A noble hesitation. Wise the man
Who often will his power and vantage scan,
Who measures means with the expenditure,
Season with place, then acts; his deeds endure.
“Not with my mere resolve the enterprise
Begins and ends of this great sacrifice.”
While thus in a strong grasp his thought he held
His mind to Krishna who all beings excelled
Of mortal breed, for surest surety ran,
Krishna, the strong unmeasurable man
Whom Self-born upon earth conjectured he
Because his deeds measured with deity.
“To Krishna’s mind all things are penetrable:
His genius knows not the impossible”
Pondered the son of Hades “nor is there
A weight his mighty mind cannot upbear.”
On Krishna as on sage and guide his mind
(Who is indeed the guide of all mankind)
He fixed and sent his messenger afar
To Yadove land in a swift-rolling car.
Then sped the rushing wheels with small delay
And reached the gated city Dwaraca,
The gated city where Junnardun dwelt.
Krishna to Yudishthere’s desire felt
Answering desire and went with Indrosane
Passing through many lands to Indra-Plain,
Fierily passing with impetuous hooves
To Indraprustha and the men he loves.
With filial soul his brothers Yudishthere
And Bheme received the man without compeer:
But Krishna to his father’s sister went
And greeted her with joyous love; then bent
His heart to pleasure with his heart’s own friend,
All reverently the courteous twins attend.
But after rest in those bright halls renowned
Yudishthere sought the immortal man and found
At leisure sitting and revealed his need.
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“King’s Sacrifice I covet, but indeed
Thou knowest not practicable by will alone
Like other rites is this imperial one,
But he in whom all kingly things combine,
He whom all men, all lands to honour join,
A king above all kings, he finds alone
Empire. And now though all my friends are one
To bid me forward, yet do I attend
From thy voice only certainty, O friend.
Some from affection lovingly suppress
Their friend’s worst fault and some from selfishness,
Speaking what most will please. Others conceal
Their own good with the name of commonweal.
Such counsel in his need a monarch hath.
But thou art pure of selfish purpose; wrath
And passion know thee not; and thou wilt tell
What shall be solely and supremely well.”
Krishna made answer: “All thy virtues, all
Thy gifts make thee the man imperial.
Thou dost deserve this Sacrifice. Yet well
Though thou mayst know it, one thing will I tell.
When Raama, Jemadugny’s son, had slain
The chivalry of earth, those who were fain
To flee, left later issue to inherit
The name of Kshettriya and the regal spirit.
Of these the rule by compact of the clan
Approved thou knowest, and each highborn man
Whate’er and all the kingly multitude
Name themselves subjects of great Ila’s brood
And the Ixvaacuu house. Now by increase
The Ixvaacuu Kings and Ilian count no less
Than are a hundred clans. Of all most huge
Yayaaty of the Bhojas, a deluge
Upon the earth in multitude and gift.
To these all chivalry their eyes uplift,
These and their mighty fortunes serve. But now
King Jerasundha lifts his diademed brow
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And Ila and Ixvaacuu pale their fires,
O’erwhelmed. He over kings and nations towers;
This way and that way with impetuous hands
Assailing overbears; the middle lands
Inhabits and by division rules the world
Since he in whose sole hand the earth is furled,
Who is first monarch and supreme, may claim,
He and he only, the imperial name.
And him the mighty hero Shishupaal
Owns singly nor disdains his lord to call
But leads his warfare, and, of captains best,
The puissant man and subtle strategist,
Vuccar, the Koruush king, and those two famed
Grew to his side, Hunsa and Dimbhuc named,
Brave men and high of heart; and Corrusus,
Duntvuccar, Meghovaahon, Corobhus,
Great kings; and the wide-ruler of the west,
The Yovun lord upon whose gleaming crest
Burns the strange jewel wonderful, whose might
Is like the boundless Ocean’s infinite,
Whose rule Norac obeys and Muruland.
King Bhogadutt owns Jerasundh’s command,
Thy father’s ancient friend, and more with hand
Serves him than word. He only of the west
And southern end of earth who is possessed,
The hero Kuuntiewurdhun Puurujit
Feels for thee as a tender father might.
Chained by affection to thee is his heart
And by affection in thy weal has part.
To Jerasundh he whom I did not slay
Is gathered, he who must forsooth display
My signs, gives himself out god humanized
And man ideal, and for such is prized
Now in the world, a madman soiled of soul,
The tyrant of the Chedies, whose control
Poundra and Keerat own, a mighty lord,
King of Bengal and by the name adored
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Of Poundrian Vaasudave. The Bhoja strong
To whom wide lands, one fourth of all, belong,
Called friend of Indra — he made tameable
Pandya and Cruth and Koyshic by his skill
And science, and his brother Aacritie
Is very Purshuraam in prowess — he,
Even Bheeshmuc, even this high, far-conquering king
To Jerasundh is vowed. We worshipping,
We who implore his favour, we his kin
Are utterly rejected, all our pain
Of benefaction met with sharp contempt,
Benefit with harm returned or evil attempt.
He has forgot his birth, his pride, his name;
Blinded by Jerasundha’s burning fame
To him is gone. To him high fortune yields;
Great nations leave their old ancestral fields.
The Bhojas of the North to western plain
Their eighteen clans transplanted, Surasegn,
Shalwa, Petucchur, Kuuntie, Bhudrocar,
Suisthull, Kulind, Sucuitta. All that are
Of the Shalwaian Kings brother or friend,
Are with their leaders gone, nor yet an end:
The Southern Punchaals and in Kuuntie-land
The Eastern Coshalas. Their native north
Abandoning the Mutsyas have gone forth
And from their fear take southern sanctuary:
With them the clan Sunnyustopaad. Lastly
The warrior great Punchaalas terrified
Have left their kingdoms and to every side
Are scattering before Jerasundha’s name.
On us the universal tempest came,
When Kunsa furiously crushed of old
The Yadoves: for to Kunsa bad and bold
The son of Brihodruth his daughters gave
Born younger feminine to male Sahadave,
Ustie and Praapthie. In this tie made strong
His royal kin he overpowered; nor long,
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Being supreme, ruled prudently, but grew
A tyrant and a fool. Whereupon drew
The Bhoja lords together, those whom tired
His cruelties, and these with me conspired
Seeking a national deliverer.
Therefore I rose and Ahuik’s daughter, her
The sweet and slender, gave to Ocroor, — then
Made free from tyranny my countrymen.
With me was Raam, the plougher of the foe;
Our swords laid Kunsa and Sunaaman low.
Scarce was this inbred peril crossed and we
Safe, Jerasundh arose. Then laid their plans
By vast majority the eighteen clans,
That though we fought for ever, though we slew
With mighty blows infallible, o’erthrew
Foe upon foe, three centuries might take wing
Nor yet be slain the armies of the King.
For him and his two men like gods made strong,
Unslayable where the weapons thickest throng;
Hunsa and Dimbhuc styled. These two uniting,
Heroes, and Jerasundh heroic fighting
Might battle with assembled worlds and win;
Such was my thought, nor mine alone has been,
But all the kings this counsel entertain,
O wisest Yudishthere. Now there was slain
By Raam in eight days’ battle duelling
One Hunsa truly named, a mighty King.
Hunsa is slain!’ said one to Dimbhuc. Him
Hearing the Jumna’s waters overwhelm
Devoted. Without Hunsa here alone
He had not heart to linger, so is gone
His way to death. Of Dimbhuc’s death when knew
Hunsa, sacker of cities, he too drew
To the same waves that closed above his friend.
There were they joined in one o’erwhelming end.
This hearing Jerasundha discontent
With empty heart to his own city went.
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The King being gone we in all joy again In Mothura dwelt and our ancestral plain. But she, the royal princess lotus-eyed, Went to her father mourning; she, the pride Of Jerasundh and Kunsa’s wife, and cried, Spurring the mighty Maagudh, weeping: Kill My husband’s murderer, O my father,’ and still: Kill him!’ But we minding the old thought planned With heavy hearts out from our native land, Son, friend and kinsman, all in fear must flee. Our endless riches’ loose prolixity Unportable by division we compressed And with it fared sadly into the west. The lovely city, fair Cuishusthaly, With mountains beautiful, our colony We made, the Ryevut mountains; and up-piled Ramparts which even the gods in battle wild Could hardly scale, ramparts which women weak Might hold — of Vrishny’s swords what call to speak? Five are the leagues our dwelling place extends, Three are the mountain-shoulders and each ends An equal space: hundred-gated the town. Each gate with heroism and renown Is bolted and has eighteen keys close-bound, Eighteen strong bows in whom the trumpet’s sound Wakes headlong lust of war. Thousands as many Our race. Ahuik has hundred sons nor any
Less than a god. And Charudeshna, he With his dear brother, hero Saatyakie, Chucrodave, I, the son of Rohinnie, And Samba and Prodyoumna, seven are we, Seven strong men; nor other seven more weak, Cunca and Shuncou, Kuuntie and Someque, Anadhrishty, Somitinjoy, Critovurm; Undhuc’s two sons besides and the old King: firm As adamant they, heroes energical. These are the Vrishny men who lead there, all
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Remembering the sweet middle lands we lost. There we behold that flood of danger crossed The Maagudh, Jerasundh, the mountain jaws Impassable behold. There free from cause Of fear, eastern or northern, Modhou’s sons Dwell glad of safety. Lo, we the mighty ones, Because King Kunsa married, to the west, By Jerasundha utterly distressed, Are fled, and there on Ryevut, hill of kine, Find sanctuary from danger Magadhine. Therefore though all imperial gifts and high Vindicate thee, though o’er earth’s chivalry Thou shouldst be Emperor indeed, nowise Shalt thou accomplish, King, the Sacrifice Great Jerasundha living; for he brings The princes of the earth and all her kings And Girivraj with mighty prisoners fills As in a cavern of the lordly hills, A lion's homestead, slaughtered elephants lie — So they a hecatomb of royalty Wait their dire ending; for Magadha’s King A sacrifice of princes purposing, With fierce asceticism of will adored Mahadave mighty-minded, Uma’s lord. Conquering he moves towards his purpose, brings Army on army, kings on battling kings, Victorious brings and binds and makes of men His mountain-city a huge cattle-pen. Us too his puissance drove in strange dismay To the fair-gated city, Dwaraca. Therefore if of imperial sacrifice Thou art ambitious, first, O prince, devise To rescue all those murdered Kings and slay King Jerasundha, since thus only may The instituted sacrifice attain Its great proportion and immenser plan. King, I have said; yet as thy deeper mind
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Adviseth thee. Only when all’s designed, All reasons weighed, then give me word.” “O thou Art only wise,” Yudishthere cried. “Lo now A word no other heart might soar so high As utter; yet thy brave sagacity Plainly hath phrased it; nor like thee on earth Another sword of counsel shall take birth. Behold, the earth is full of kings; they still Each in his house do absolutely their will; Yet who attains to empire? Nay, the word Itself is danger. He who has preferred His enemy’s greatness by sad study known, How shall he late forget and praise his own? Only who in his foemen’s shock not thrown Wins by ordeal praise, deserves the crown. This vast and plenteous earth, this mine of gems, Is from a distance judged, how vast its realms, Not from the dells. Nor otherwise, O pride Of Vrishny’s seed, man’s greatness is espied. In calm and sweet content is highest bliss, Mine be the good that springs from chastened peace. I even with attempt hope not the crown Of high supremacy to wear. Renown Girds these and highborn mind; and so they deem “Lo I or I am warrior and supreme”, Yet if by chance one better prove mid men, It is but chance who wins the crown and when. But we by Jerasundha’s force alarmed And all his mighty tyrannies iron-armed Shun the emprise. O hero, O high-starred In whose great prowess we have done and dared, On whose heroic arm our safeties dwell Yet lo thou fear’st him, deem’st invincible And where thou fearest, my conceit of strength Becomes a weakling’s dream until at length I hardly dare to hope by strongest men This mighty Jerasundha can be slain,
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Urjuun or Bheme or Raama or combined. Thou, Keshove, in all things to me art Mind.” Out Bhema spoke, the strong man eloquent. “The unstrenuous king, unhardy, unvigilant Sinks like an anthill; nor the weak-kneed less Who on a stronger leans his helplessness. But the unsleeping and resourceful man With wide and adequate attempt oft can His mightier enemy vanquish: him though feeble His wished-for good attends invariable. Krishna has policy and I have strength And with our mother’s son, Dhonunjoy, length Assured of victory dwells; we shall assail Victoriously the Magadhan and quell As triple fire a victim.” Krishna then: “Often we see that rash unthinking men Imprudent undertake, nor consequence Envisage: yet will not his foe dispense Therefore the one-ideaed and headstrong man. Now since the virtuous ages first began Five emperors have been to history known, Maroutta, Bharut, Yuvanuswa’s son, Great Bhogiruth and Cartoverya old. By wealth Maroutta conquered, Bharut bold
By armed strength; Mandhata’s victories Enthroned him and his subtle soul and wise. By strenuous greatness Cartoverya bent The world; but Bhogiruth beneficent Gathered the willing nations to his sway. Thou purposing like greatness, to one way Not limited, restor’st the imperial five. Their various masteries reunited live — Virtue, high policy, wealth without dearth And conquest and the rapid grasp at Earth — And yet avail not to make solely great. Strong Jerasundha bars thee from thy fate, Whom not the hundred nations can deter
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But with great might he grows an emperor; The jewel-sceptred Kings to serve him start. Yet he in his unripe and violent heart Unsatisfied, assumes the tyrant’s part. He, the first man of men, lays his rude hand On the anointed monarchs of the land And pillages. Not one we see exempt. How then shall feebler king his fall attempt? Well-nigh a hundred in his sway are whelmed. With these like cattle cleansed, like cattle hemmed In Sheva’s house, the dreadful Lord of beasts, Purified as for sacrificial feasts, Surely life’s joy is turned to bitterness, Not dying like heroes in the battle’s press. Honour is his who in swift battle falls And best mid swords high death to princes calls. In battle let us ‘gainst the Maagudh thrust, By battle ignominy repel. To just Eighty and six the royal victims mount, Fourteen remain to fill the dire account; Who being won his horrid violence No farther pause will brook. Glory immense He wins, glory most glorious who frustrates Interposing the tyrant and amates. Kings shall acclaim him lord inevitably.” But Yudishthere made answer passionately: “Shall I, ambitious of imperial place, Krishna, expose in my mad selfishness, Upbuoyed by naked daring, men to death Whom most I love? O Krishna, what is breath To one that’s mad and of his eyes bereft? What joy has he that life to him is left? These are my eyes, thou Krishna art my mind: Lo I have come as one who stumbles blind Upon the trackless Ocean’s spuming shore, Then wakes, so I all confident before Upon this dreadful man whom even death
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Dare not in battle cross. What use is breath Of hopeless effort? Mischief only can Result to the too blindly daring man. Better not undertaken, is my mind On riper thought, than fruitlessly designed. Nay, let us leave this purpose; wiser so Than with eyes open to our death to go. For all my heart within is broken and slain Viewing the vast impracticable pain Of Sacrifice Imperial.” Then replied To Yudishthere great Partha in the pride Of wonders self-attained, banner and car, And palace Titan-built and in the war Quiver made inexhaustible and great Unequalled bow. “O King” he said “since Fate Has given me bow and shafts, a sword like flame, Great lands and strength, courage, allies and fame, Yea, such has given as men might covet long And never win; O King, what more? For strong Is birth and conquers, cries the theorist Conversant in deep books; but to my taste Courage is strongest strength. How helps it then The uncourageous that heroic men His fathers were? From uncourageous sires Who springs a hero, he to glory towers. That man the name of Kshettriya merits best Whose soul is ever to the battle drest. Courage, all gifts denied, ploughs through amain A sea of foes: courage without in vain All other gifts conspire; rather all gifts Courage into a double stature lifts. But conquest is in three great strengths complete — Action, capacity, fate: where these three meet, There conquest comes; nor strengths alone suffice; Men by neglect forfeit their Paradise. And this the cause the strong much-hated man Before his enemies sinks. Hard ’tis to scan
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Whether of these flaws strength most fatally, A spirit poor or an o’erweening eye. Both are destruction. Kings who highly aim And court success, must either quite disclaim. And if by Jerasundha’s overthrow, Rescuing Kings, to Sacrifice we go, What fairer, what more glorious? Mighty prince, Deeds unattempted virtue maimed evince. In us when virtue dwells, why deem’st thou, brother, A nothingness the children of thy mother? Easy it is the ochre gown to take Afterwards, if for holy calmness’ sake We must the hermit virtues imitate. But here is Empire! here, a royal fate! Let others quietism’s sweets embrace; We the loud battle seek, the foeman’s face.” “In Kuuntie’s son and born of Bharut’s race What spirit should dwell, Urjuun’s great words express,” Said Krishna. “And of death we have no light Whether it comes by day or comes by night; Nor this of mortal man was ever known That one by going not to fight has grown Immortal. Let him then who’s man indeed Clash forth against his foes, yet rule decreed Of policy forget not: so his mind Shall live at poise. For when in battle combined Conduct meets long felicity, then high Success must come nor two met equally Equal can issue thence: from clash and strife Of equals inequality takes life. But rash impolicy with helplessness Having joined issue in their mutual stress Breed ruin huge; equality inglorious Then doubt engenders, nor are both victorious. Therefore in skilful conduct putting trust If with our foe we grapple, fell him we must As a wild torrent wrestling with a tree
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Uproots and hurls it downward to the sea. Trying the weak points in thine enemy’s mail, Subtly thine own conceal, then prompt assail;’ So runs the politic maxim of the wise And to my mind rings just. If we devise Secret, yet with no spot of treacherous blame, To penetrate our foeman’s house and limb Grapple with limb, oh, won infallibly then Our object is. Often one man of men Pervades the nations like a soul, whose brow Glory eternal-seeming wears; so now This lion lord of men; but yet I deem Shall that eternal vanish like a dream. In battle slaying him if at the last By many swords we perish, so ’tis best. We shall by death the happy skies attain Saving from tyranny our countrymen.”
CANTO III
Krishna pursued. “Now is the call of Fate: Fallen is Dimbhuc, fallen Hunsa great; Kunsa is slain and all his host; the hour Is sighted when King Jerasundha’s power Must bow to death; yet not in violent war ‘Tis conquerable nor all the gods that are, Nor the embattled Titans overwhelm: In deadly duel we must vanquish him. Conduct is mine, strength Bheme’s, and in the field Who is very victory stands here to shield. We will consume the Maagudh, King, believe, As three strong fires a sacrifice achieve. If we three in a lonely place attain
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To see him, no doubt is, the King of men Duel with one of three will undertake, In pride and strength and greed of glory’s sake Grandiose of heart, duel with Bhema claim But Bheme great-armed, Bheme strenuous for him Suffices, even as death that closes all Sufficient is for the immense world’s fall. King, if my heart thou knowest and if trust Thou hast in me at all, then as a just And dear deposit in my hands implied Bheme and Urjuuna give.” And the King cried, “Achyuta, O Achyuta, never so, O hero, speak, O slayer of the foe. Thou art the Pandoves’ lord, their refuge thou. Govinda, all thou speakest I avow Truth merely; whom thou guidest are not men Fortune abandons. Nay, already slain King Jerasundha is, rescued already Those Kings of earth, and won and greatly ready Imperial Sacrifice, now that I stand, O first of men, in thy controlling hand. Quickly this work to accomplish, be it planned But prudently; for without you no zest, No courage I have to live, as one distressed, One overcome with sickness, who lives on When life no meaning has but pain alone. Without the child of Pandu Krishna is none, Nor possible without Krishna Pritha’s son. By Krishna led unvanquishable are these. Splendid in strength, strongest of strong men is, Vricoder: joined and made a third with you, Famous and noble, nought is he may not do.
Well led the armed multitudes effect Great deeds, but led must be by men elect. Blind and inert mere strength is, all its force Impetuous but a block. As by that course Where dips the soil, there water’s led and whence
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A gap most opens river-men lead thence Water, even such is guiding policy. Therefore, Govinda, in thy hand are we, Whom the world names its hero famousest For conduct and in that great science best. Krishna whose strength is wisdom, counsel, who Is girded with resource, Krishna must you Put in your van with action’s every need: So only action’s purpose may succeed. Urjuun by Krishna led, Bheme by Urjuun; Then conduct, victory, strength, these three triune Shall grow and conquer, making valour good.” He said, and those three huge in hardihood, The Vrishny hero and the Pandoves twain, Went forth to Magadha of happy men. To Girivraj, the city of the hills, A nation of the fourfold orders fills, A prosperous race and glad, they travelled are, Flushed with high festival and void of care, A virgin city inviolable in war. So came they to the city gates where soared The height by Brihodrutha’s sons adored And all the people, one of peaks that stand, Delightful hills, Chytyuc, in Magadh land; — Thither they storming came. There Rishabha, The eater of forbidden flesh, to slay Came Brihodruth the King and slew and bound Three war-drums with its hide whose threatening sound Far borne through a whole month went echoing. These in his city placed the Maagudh King. Covered with dust of glorious blossoms there The drums hurled oft their thunders through the air. But now came storming to the Chytyuc wall The heroes and the war-drums broke and all Upon the rampart fell as if to smite The very head of Jerasundha’s might: Chytyuc, the ancient peak enorm, deep-based,
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Ever with flowers and fragrance worshipped, vast And famous, with Titanic force of arm Assailed and overthrew with loud alarm; So leaped exulting through no usual gate. To war with Jerasundh they came, and yet Weapons of war had none, with their arms merely Sworded and shielded with the vow austerely Assumed wherein men enter worldly life, Snaatucs. A town they saw with riches rife, Food-mart and flower-mart and populous street, In all desirable wealth grandly complete. So went they mid the shops and highroad wide And from the garland-makers in the pride Of hostile strength fresh garlands violently They mastered. Then in bright variety Of garments many-hued the mighty three With wreaths and burnished earrings bright aflame To Jerasundha’s lordly dwelling came. As lions of the Himalaya eye A cattle-pen, so they the palace high. But on the Maagudh men amazement fell Seeing those shapes of heroes formidable, Like elephants in strength, broad-breasted, wide And great of shoulder and like boles their arms Of shoal-trees mighty, fit for warlike harms; Now sandal-smeared and rubbed with aloe-scent. They through the courts in courage arrogant Pass sternly, through three crowded courts attain The royal presence freed from anxious pain. And the great king arose, for them he judged Worthy of high guest-offerings, nowise grudged The water for the feet, the honied curds
And gifts of kine, but with deserved words Greeted them crying “Welcome, holy men.” And no word answered him the Pandoves twain. Then Krishna in their midst, the man of mind, Said only “King of kings, these two must bind
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Silence till midnight hour, envisaging Their vow. Then will they speak to thee, O King.” So in the chamber sacrificial placed They sojourned and the King with awe possessed Returned to his high mansion. But when night Was deep, went the strong arbiter of fight To those three twice-born; for his vow preferred Compelled him, through earth famous, when he heard Of Snaatucs Brahmins in his city bright To meet them even in the deep midnight. And they indeed with strange astonishment Dismayed him and their garments hue-besprent Unwonted. As he came the three arose, The lion men, the victors of their foes. “Welfare, O King” they cried, and each on each They looked and scanned the King awaiting speech. Then to those lords concealed in priestly dress The King said with his haughty graciousness, “Sit, holy men.” They sat, heroic forms Blazing with mightier beauty than informs The fires of sacrifice, when a great king Sacrifices. And sternly censuring Disguise and travesty of shape sincere The conqueror steadfast, “Why come you here, Not as the Snaatucs, in this transient world Who takes the household vow, the Brahmin. Curled Garlands he wears not, smears not sandal paste. What names are yours who come in flowers dressed, Upon your mighty arms the bowstring scored And wearing heroism like a sword, Yet Brahminhood pretend? Speak truth, whence springs Your race? Truth is the ornament of kings. Splitting the Chytyuc peak fiercely you came, Yet wear a vain disguise to hide a flame Yourselves reveal. Where no gate was, no path Allowed, you entered, nor a monarch’s wrath Calamitous feared; and are ye Brahmins? Bright
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In speech the Brahmin; speech his only might And prowess. You whose deeds your caste deny, What needing come you to my palace high? And wherefore took you not the offering To guests observed but scorned Magadha’s king?” Then Krishna in a deep and quiet voice Replied, adept in words of exquisite choice. “Brahmins thou deemest us whom duties call Worldward, but Brahmin, Kshettriya, Vyshya, all Equal entitled are to Snaatuchood. Vows personal, vows general, both are good. But those the Kshettriya’s majesty prepare, To Kshettriyas those belong. Flowers if we wear, Who decks his aspiration stern with flowers, The majesty he wins outbraves the hours. Rightly thou sayest, King, the Kshettriya’s might Speaks from his arm, in words has no delight, Wild words and many uses not; for God Set in the arm, its natural abode, The Kshettriya prowess. Which if thou aspire To see, surely we will not baulk desire; Today thou shalt behold it. Nor debate Of path allowable and door and gate. No gate is in the house of enemies. By the plain door a friend’s house entered is, But by no door with ruin impetuous A foeman’s. These are virtue’s gates and thus Enters the self-possessed, right-seeing man. Nor offering hospitable take we can In foemen’s house with deeds upon our hands. This is our vow and this eternal stands.” And Jerasundh replied, “Enmity, strife I can recall not gazing through my life, Brahmins, with you begun, nor aught that men Pervert to hatred. Wherefore call you then A sinless man your enemy? The good One practice keep, one rule well understood;
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And he, the Kshettriya who with causeless blame Lightly has taxed the innocent, he with maim Virtue curtails inheriting remorse: Be he in virtue conversant, in force A warrior among warriors, if he act Other than good, has with his own hand hacked His own felicity here and there his soul Following the sinner’s way shall reach the sinner’s goal. Throughout the triple universe confessed The Kshettriya virtue, Kshettriya life is best For nobleness; for goodness. Other rule They praise not who have learned in virtue’s school. That virtue and that life are mine. Steadfast Today I stand in them with spirit braced, Sinless before my people. And ye prate Madness.” Krishna made sterner answer: “Great Is he who sent us, of a mighty strain Upbearer, and upon his shoulders lain The burden of a deed for kindred blood. From him we come upon thee like a flood. Sinless dost thou, O Jerasundha, claim And thou the world’s great princes dost o’erwhelm, Gathered for cruel slaughter? When before Did kings on good kings tyranny explore? But thou, a king, hast conquered and subdued, And Rudra’s altar thou wouldst have imbrued With blood of Kings for victims. On our head Their piteous blood shall lie which thy hands shed. For we are virtue’s and in her have force Virtue to bulwark. Giving tyranny course We share the sin. Not yet the world has seen That crowning horror, butchery of men. O man, how couldst thou to a god devise, To Shancara a human sacrifice? It is thy blood, thy kind thou levellest Comparing human natures with the beast. Is there a man in all the world whose mind
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Like thine is violent, like thine is blind? But this remember, not with the deed man does There is an end; he reaps from what he sows And as he planted such the fruit he sees: Footprints his action left, Fate treads in these. Therefore ‘gainst thee, destroyer of our caste, We, champions of the miserable oppressed, For rescue of our kindred men are here To slay thee. But thou sayest What should I fear? There is no man in all the Kshettriya race And I am he alone.’ Great witlessness Is thine, O King, and error most unjust. What Kshettriya has a soul and lives but must Recall with pride his birth from valiant men? Who would not by the way of battle then Enter the doors of Paradise eterne, Felicitous gates? When paradise to earn Heroes to war as to a sacrifice Initiate go, resistless then they rise Conquering Nature. Veda fathers heaven; To glory excellent its gates are given; Austerity masters it. In battle who falls He most infallibly wins the happy halls. For what is Indra’s heaven, what Paradise? Heaven in noble deeds and virtue lies. By these the myriad-sacrificing god Conquered the Titans and the world bestrode. And what more excellent way to heaven than strife With thee? Nor thou by lustiness of life Deceived and thy huge armies Magadhine Maddening with strength thy foemen quite disdain. In many hearts a fire of courage dwells That equals thine, nay, may be, far excels. While these are hidden in the hand of fate, So long thou art supreme, but so long great. Yes, I will speak it, we, even we, can bear The brunt of all thy greatness. King, forbear
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Pride with thy equals and vain insolence. O King, why wilt thou with thy son go hence, With all thy captains and great men below To Yama’s melancholy mansions go? Were there not kings as great as thou? Who strove With Brihodruth, Cartoverya, Dumbhodbove, High Uttara? All they are sunk unmourned, Great kings and mighty captains; for they scorned Mightier than they. No Brahmins, learn, are we, Antagonists of thy supremacy.
Shourian I am and Hrishikesha styled; These are the Pandove heroes. Brother’s child I to their mother am — Krishna, thy foe. Take our defiance, King. In battle show Thy steadfast courage, prince of Magadha, Or while thou mayst escape. Either this day Release the captive princes all or die.” Then answered Jerasundha puissantly: “Not without conquest I collect amain Princes; who is there penned my walls within And not in equal battle overthrown? This is the law and life to Kshettriyas known, To battle and subdue and work their will Upon the conquered, Krishna. Owable Upon God’s altar I have gathered these; And shall I for ignoble fear release, While yet the Kshettriya blood beats in my veins, And yet one Kshettriya thought unquenched remains? Army with battled army, single gage With single or alone I will engage With two or three together or one by one.” So spake the King and ordered that his son Be straight anointed for the kingdom’s needs. Himself must fight with men of dreadful deeds. And in that hour King Jerasundha sighed Remembering great captains who had died, Cowshic and Chitrosane, (but other names
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Men gave in converse with worldwide acclaims, Hunsa and Dimbhuc calling), them that night Recalled in shadow of the coming fight. Then spake the Yadove pure and eloquent Seeing the monarch upon battle bent. “With which of three will thy heart battle dare, O King, or which of us shall now prepare For battle?” Then that famous royal man, The Maagudh Jerasundh, with Bhemosane Chose battle. Wreaths, pigment of augury Bovine and all auspicious gramary, Medicaments beside that lighten pain Or call the fugitive senses back again, The high priest brought for Jerasundh and read The word of blessing o’er the monarch’s head.
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