ABSTRACT
CHAPTER II Sanjaya. Him, filled with such compassion and such grief,With eyes tear-dimmed, despondent, in stern wordsThe Driver, Madhusudan, thus addressed: Krishna. How hath this weakness taken thee? Whence springs The inglorious trouble, shameful to the brave, Barring the path of virtue ? Nay, Arjun ! Forbid thyself to feebleness ! it mars Thy warrior-name ! cast off the coward-fit! W ake! Be thyself! Arise, Scourge of thy Foes!Arjuna. How can I, in the battle, shoot with shaftsOn Bhishma, or on Drona-O thou Chief! — Both worshipful, both honourable men ? Better to live on beggar’s bread With those we love alive,Than taste their blood in rich feasts spread, And guiltily survive!Ah ! were it worse-who knows ?—to be Victor or vanquished here,When those confront us angrily Whose death leaves living drear?
