Maha Bharata : The Epic of Ancient India

[Dark Saint Alaick]

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?

[Dark Saint Alaick]

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?"

[Dark Saint Alaick]

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!"

[Dark Saint Alaick]

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!

[Dark Saint Alaick]

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 far-resounding shell!

In his shining arms accoutred, gleaming in his helmet dread,
Shines he like the flame of _homa_ by libations duly fed!"

[Dark Saint Alaick]

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!

[Dark Saint Alaick]

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!

[Dark Saint Alaick]

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!

[Dark Saint Alaick]

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!

[Dark Saint Alaick]

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!