BOOK III.
VYÂSA’S INSTRUCTIONS.
BEAMING with a gentle lustre Soft as rays of autumn night, Graced with auburn locks that clustered Like a cloud with lightning bright!
Bearing grace in all its fulness On his more than mortal form, Filling every living creature With affection pure and warm!
Speaking by his gentle features Peaceful thoughts that filled his heart, By his soft and trustful glances Seeking confidence t’ impart!
Mighty source of all the Vedas, Source from whom all virtues flow, Him the King Yudhishthir questioned, Curious his great end to know. (4)
“Unattained by mighty virtue, Saint! thy visit is to me Like a holy life’s fruition, Like the rain from cloudless sky!
“Rites performed bear fruit to-day, Brâhmans’ blessings bring forth weal, Mighty Saint! since by thy visit Honoured in this world I feel!
“By its grace it conquers evils, By its glory spreads our fame, From thy kindness as from Brahmâ’s, Untold bliss and blessings come!
“Not the moon with gentle radiance Cheers my sad and weary eye,— Now my heart forgets its sadness, Beats with joy, for thou art nigh!
“Thy desire I may not question, Peaceful souls have no desires! But a wish to hear thy utterance With a boldness me inspires!” (9)
In graceful words thus spoke the monarch; Vyâsa, by his kindness led, Anxious for the monarch’s glory, Thus unto Yudhishthir said: (10)
“He who strives for fame and glory Bears for all an equal love, He who strives for peace and virtue Should with love impartial move.
“Yet my partial heart, O monarch, Is by virtues drawn to thee; Virtues have a power attractive Even on holy saints and high.
“Are ye not of race imperial, Worthier far than Suyodhan? Has the old king lost his reason[^8] Thus to wrench from you your own?
“And will fortune help a monarch Who on Karna places trust? Friendship with unrighteous mortals Is but fame and honour lost!
“When your foes left paths of virtue, You in virtue took your rest; And midst changes, still unchanging, Shewed forgiveness, ever blest!
“Vainly did they seek to shame thee, Man of ever changeless love! ’Tis thy wealth of worth and virtue In true light their actions prove!
“But mark my words! by valour only You can win in battle’s hour; And in might is strong the foeman,— Therefore seek increase in power. (17)
“Jamadagni’s son,[^9] who conquered Thrice seven times the kings of earth, Great though he, the chieftain trembles At great Bhîshma’s[^10] mightier worth!
“Death is powerless, death is conquered By that chief’s resistless power; Trembles earth when mighty Bhîshma Wields his bow in battle’s hour!
“Doughty Drona![^11] in the battle, Speeding arrows in his ire, Like a world-consuming furnace With its quivering tongues of fire!
“Fiery Karna[^12] learnt his lessons From great Jamadagni’s son. Death himself, in Karna’s presence Owns a terror, strange, unknown!
“These are chiefs, believe me, monarch, Whom in battle thou shalt face! Hence let Arjun with due penance Seek celestial arms and grace.
“Let him seek that gift of prowess Gods themselves by penance crave,— This, O monarch, is my mission,— Win the gift that speeds the brave.” (23)
Then the great and mighty Arjun Stept forth reverent and slow, Bowing to Yudhishthir’s mandate, Like a student meek and low.
And the gift, the fiery mantra, Issuing from the holy saint, As the sunlight falls on lotus, So unto great Arjun went!
And the mantra’s sacred radiance, Which the hero proudly wore, Quickly oped his eye of reason, Taught him secrets of deep lore!
And his form betokened glory, And his heart was fixed and strong, Urging penance pure and holy, Vyâsa spoke to Arjun young. (27)
“Strengthened by this mantra, Arjun! Yielding thy own place to none, Girt in arms perform thy penance, Unto fasts, ablutions prone.
“Let this Yaksha lead thee, youth! To the lofty golden hill,— There you do your sacred penance, Please great Indra, do his will.” (29)
Thus speaking to the mighty chief The saint evanished from his view, Obedient to his sacred word Appeared the Yaksha, faithful, true.
The Yaksha bowed and felt a love For Arjun, gentle in his speech; The pure are quick in confidence, And friendship is not far to reach. (31)
As darkness fills Sumeru’s bowers When slow the god of day departs, The parting from the mighty Arjun Filled with grief his brothers’ hearts.
Dispelled awhile by sense of duty,— Albeit so strong was brothers’ love,— The sorrow of the parting brothers, Though keen, did not oppressive prove.
And hope and trust in Arjun’s might, And bitter hatred of the foe, And confidence in Arjun’s power Dispelled the brothers’ common woe.
As darkness leaves the hours of day And seeks the stillness of the night, Thus sorrow left the mighty chiefs, And fell on Krishnâ[^13] in its might.
As flakes of snow the lotus fills Spontaneous tear-drops filled her eye, Nor could she weep, for tear-drops shed Might be an inauspicious sign!
One look she gave, ’twas dear to soul,— And Arjun caught the parting grace,— His treasure and memento dear Through pathless woods and weary days.
By grief her tender heart was wrung, Like summer rills by tuskers soiled; Her voice was choked with tears restrained, She spoke in accents sweet and wild. (38)
“Restorer of our ancient fame, Now trailed in mire by foemen’s art, Until thy mighty penance ends, Our absence should not pain thy heart.
“In fame’s pursuit, in pleasure’s quest, In deeds which glorious records fill, Unfailing Fortune leans to him Who labours with a mighty will!
“To rule the world was Kshatriya made, His wealth is conquering power in strife! Disgrace, alas! has quenched that power,— To true-born warriors dear as life!
“Disgrace, which kings in distant lands Have doubting heard, heads bent in shame! Which stains our former stainless worth, Our world embracing mighty fame!
“Disgrace, which wipes our former deeds, And hides in gloom our glory’s blaze! Which wipes our future prospects fair, As evening wipes the sun’s last rays!
“Disgrace by hated foemen dealt,— This bitter thought is cruel, smart! Disgrace which in thy absence, chief! Will freshen in this sorrowing heart. (44)
“How changed thou art! like wounded tuskers, Prowess lost, and glory faded, Deprived of power by foemen’s wile, Like day by clouds of autumn shaded!
“Thy arms unused have lost their glow, Nor deck thee as they did of yore; Thy form how changed, like summer lakes, Now faded by the loss of power!
“Duhsâsan dragged me by this hair! Untied they are, their lord is fate! On thy great fame they cast reproach, Oh! art thou Dhananjay[^14] the great?
“A Kshatriya he who can protect— A bow is useful in the war— But vain their import if they fail In virtues by their name they bear.
“Thy warlike virtues, all but dead, Ingloriously thy rise await, And seem to share our common grief, And imitate our common plight! (49)
“But rash thy foemen thee insult, As tuskers touch a lion’s mane! Duty for thy worth elects thee, As the day elects the sun!
“A hero’s deeds all deeds excel, And fill the glorious rolls of fame; A hero’s name holds foremost place When men their mighty chieftains name!
“Then be a hero! do thy deeds,— And if perchance within thy heart, A thought of us awakes a pang, May Indra every grief avert!
“In sacred spots, from dangers free, May all thy time in safety pass; Beware the wicked, impure foes Who turn against the pure, alas!
“Thy duty calls thee! Arjun, go! Perform the saint’s behest in peace; And all our dearest hopes fulfilling, Come thou to our dear embrace!” (54)
Thus spoke Drupad’s noble daughter, Deepening his resentment high; And he crimsoned in his anger Like the sun in northern sky!
Accoutred in his mighty weapons, Fancying all his foes before, As spells assume a power terrific, He a form terrific wore!
The bow before which foemen trembled, Famed by many a mighty deed, The quivers never seen by foemen, And the long and shining blade,
And his gem-bespangled armour, Like the star-decked sky,—he wore! Scars by Indra’s darts inflicted, Hid by glory evermore!
Guided by the faithful Yaksha He unto the mountains hied, Filled the hearts of saints with sorrow, As with tears the chief they eyed. (59)
A heavenly music filled the realms on high, And fragrant blossoms gently fell from sky, And the sea with breakers ever restless Clasped the earth to whisper words of sweetness! (60)