Unto him—thus moved by passion, with his courage waxing weak,
With his eyes bedew’d and swollen—did the Slayer of Madhu speak.
(Krishna).
“Whence hath come on thee this sadness, Arjun, at the time of need?—
Quite ignoble, uncelestial, it will not to glory lead,
“Yield not unto weakness, Arjun; this is unbecoming now;
Casting off thy bosom’s faintness, rise, O slayer of foemen thou.”
(Arjun).
“How shall I, O Slayer of Madhu, with my shafts assail to-day
Bhishma and my tutor Drona—worthy of my honour they?
“Rather live on alms, than murder these superiors noble-soul’d;
I should feed on blood-stain’d viands, if I slew them seeking gold!
“For, we wot not which is better: loss or vict’ry in the strife?
Lo! the Dhartarashtras beard us, in whose death we seek not life!
