Maha-bharata Part 39

"G.o.ds 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 G.o.ds 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 n.o.ble 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,

Like the thunder-wielding INDRA, mighty YAMA dark and dread, 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,

Then his vow remembered Bhima, and he raised his weapon high, With a foul attack but fatal Bhima broke Duryodhan's thigh!

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!

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 pa.s.sages 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!

"G.o.ds 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 h.o.a.ry 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,

Veiled dwellers of the palace, scarce the G.o.ds 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 upon the broad arena milk-white fillies brave the sun, Wildly toss their flowing tresses and in sad disorder run!

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!

Veiled queens and bashful maidens, erst they shunned the public eye, Blush nor shame suffused their faces as they pa.s.sed the city by,

Gentle-bosomed, kindly hearted, erst they wiped each other's eye, Now by common sorrow laden none for sister heaved a sigh!

With this troop of wailing women, deep in woe, disconsolate, Slow the monarch of the Kurus pa.s.sed 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!