The Sanskrit Epics

by Delphi Classics

  “‘They were capable of bringing down the firmament with the sun, moon, and stars, on earth, and exterminating the four orders of created things. They know not what it is to fear, and are capable of enduring the frowns of Hara. They always act as they like, and are the lords of the lords of the three worlds. Always engaged in merry sports, they are thorough masters of speech and are perfectly free from pride. Having obtained the eight kinds of divine attributes, they are never elated with pride. The divine Hara is always filled with wonder at their feats. They are devout worshippers of Mahadeva. Adored by them in thought, word, and deed, the great god protects those worshippers of his, looking upon them, in thought, word, and deed as children of his own loins. Filled with rage, they always drink the blood and fat of all haters of Brahma. They always drink also the soma juice endued with four kinds of taste. Having adored the trident-bearing god with Vedic recitations, with brahmacarya, with austerities, and with self-restraint, they have obtained the companionship of Bhava. The divine Maheshvara, that lord of the past, the present, and the future as also Parvati, eat with those diverse tribes of mighty beings that partake of their own nature.

  “‘Causing the universe to resound with the peal of diverse kinds of instruments, with noise of laughter, with loud sounds and shrieks and leonine roar, they approached Ashvatthama. Uttering the praises of Mahadeva and spreading an effulgent light all around, desirous of enhancing the honour of Ashvatthama and the glory of the high-souled Hara, and wishing to ascertain the extent of Ashvatthama’s energy, and desirous also of beholding the slaughter during the hour of sleep, armed with terrible and fierce bludgeons and fiery wheels and battle-axes, that crowd of strange beings, endued with terrible forms, came from every side. They were capable of inspiring the three worlds with dread at their sight. The mighty Ashvatthama, however, beholding them, felt no fear. Drona’s son, armed with bow, and with fingers cased in fences made of iguana skins, himself offered up his own self as a victim unto Mahadeva. Bows were the fuel, and sharp shafts were the ladles, and his own soul possessed of great might was the libation, O Bharata, in that act of sacrifice. The valiant and wrathful son of Drona then, with propitiating mantras, offered up his own soul as the victim. Having with fierce rites adored Rudra of fierce deeds, Ashvatthama with joined hands, said these words unto that high-souled god.

  “‘Ashvatthama said, “Sprung from Angirasa’s line, I am about to pour my soul, O god, as a libation on this fire! Accept, O lord, this victim! In this hour of distress, O Soul of the universe, I offer up my own self as the sacrificial victim, from devotion to thee and with heart concentrated in meditation! All creatures are in thee and thou art in all creatures! Assemblage of all high attributes occur in thee! O lord, O thou art the refuge of all creatures. I wait as a libation for thee, since I am unable to vanquish my foes. Accept me, O god.” Having said these words, Drona’s son, ascending that sacrificial altar on which a fire blazed brightly, offered himself up as the victim and entered that blazing fire.

  “‘Beholding him stand immovable and with uplifted hands and as an offering up to himself, the divine Mahadeva appeared in person and smilingly said, “With truth, purity, sincerity, resignation, ascetic austerities, vows, forgiveness, devotion, patience, thought, and word, I have been duly adored by Krishna of pure deeds. For this there is none dearer to me than Krishna. For honouring him and at his word I have protected the Pancalas and displayed diverse kinds of illusion. By protecting the Pancalas I have honoured him. They have, however, been afflicted by time. The period of their lives hath run out.”

  “‘Having said these words unto the high-souled Ashvatthama, the divine Mahadeva entered Ashvatthama’s body after giving him an excellent and polished sword. Filled by that divine being, Drona’s son blazed up with energy. In consequence of that energy derived from godhead, he became all-powerful in battle. Many invisible beings and Rakshasas proceeded along his right and his left as he set out, like the lord Mahadeva himself, for entering the camp of his foes.’”

  SECTION 8

  “DHRITARASHTRA SAID, ‘WHILE Drona’s son, that mighty car-warrior, thus proceeded towards the hostile camp, did Kripa and Bhoja stop from fear? I hope those two car-warriors checked by vulgar guards, did not fly away secretly, thinking their opponents irresistible? Or, have they, after grinding the camp, the Somakas, and the Pandavas, followed, while still engaged in battle, the highly glorious path in which Duryodhana has gone? Are those heroes, slain by the Pancalas, sleeping on the bare Earth? Did they achieve any feat? Tell me all this, O Sanjaya!’

  “Sanjaya said, ‘When the high-souled son of Drona proceeded towards the camp, Kripa and Kritavarma waited at the gate. Beholding them ready to exert themselves, Ashvatthama became filled with joy, and addressing them whisperingly, O king, said, “If you two exert, you are competent to exterminate all the Kshatriyas! What need I say, therefore, of this remnant of the (Pandava) army, particularly when it is buried in sleep? I shall enter the camp and career like Yama. I am sure that you two will act in such way that no man may escape you with life.”

  “‘Having said these words, the son of Drona entered the vast camp of the Parthas; casting off all fear, he penetrated into it by a spot where there was no door. The mighty-armed hero, having entered the camp, proceeded, guided by signs, very softly, towards the quarters of Dhrishtadyumna. The Pancalas, having achieved great feats, had been much tired in battle. They were sleeping in confidence, assembled together, and by the side of one another. Entering into Dhrishtadyumna’s chamber, O Bharata, Drona’s son beheld the prince of the Pancalas sleeping before him on his bed. He lay on a beautiful sheet of silk upon a costly and excellent bed. Excellent wreaths of flowers were strewn upon that bed and it was perfumed with powdered dhupa. Ashvatthama, O king, awoke with a kick the high-souled prince sleeping trustfully and fearlessly on his bed. Feeling that kick, the prince, irresistible in battle and of immeasurable soul, awaked from sleep and recognised Drona’s son standing before him. As he was rising from his bed, the mighty Ashvatthama seized him by the hair of his head and began to press him down on the earth with his hands. Thus pressed by Ashvatthama with great strength, the prince, from fear as also from sleepiness, was not able to put forth his strength at that time. Striking him with his foot, O king, on both his throat and breast while his victim writhed and roared, Drona’s son endeavoured to kill him as if he were an animal. The Pancala prince tore Ashvatthama with his nails and at last softly said, “O preceptor’s son, slay me with a weapon, do not tarry! O best of men, let me, through thy act, repair to the regions of the righteous!”

  “‘Having said this much, that slayer of foes, the son of the Pancala king, assailed with strength by that mighty hero, became silent. Hearing those indistinct sounds of his, Drona’s son said, “O wretch of thy race, there is no region for those that slay their preceptors. For this, O thou of wicked understanding, thou deservest not to be slain with any weapon!” While saying so, Ashvatthama, filled with rage, began to strike the vital parts of his victim with violent kicks of his heels, and slew his foe like a lion slaying an infuriated elephant. At the cries of that hero while he was being slain, his wives and guards that were in his tent all awake, O king! Beholding somebody crushing the prince with superhuman force, they regarded the assailant to be some preternatural being and, therefore, uttered no cries from fear. Having despatched him to Yama’s abode by such means, Ashvatthama of great energy went out and getting upon his beautiful car stayed on it. Indeed, coming out of Dhrishtadyumna’s abode, O king, Ashvatthama caused all the points of the compass to resound with his roars, and then proceeded on his car to other parts of the camp for slaying his foes.

  “‘After Drona’s son, that mighty car-warrior, had gone away, the women and all the guards set up a loud wail of woe. Seeing their king slain, all the wives of Dhrishtadyumna, filled with great sorrow, cried. At that wail of theirs many mighty Kshatriyas, awaking, put on their armour and came there for enquiring after the cause of those cries. Those ladies,
terrified at the sight of Ashvatthama, in piteous tones asked the men to pursue him without delay. They said, “Whether he is a Rakshasa or a human being, we know not what he is! Having slain the Pancala king, he stayeth there!” At these words, those foremost of warriors suddenly surrounded Drona’s son. The latter slew them all by means of the rudrastra. Having slain Dhrishtadyumna and all those followers of his, he beheld Uttamauja sleeping on his bed. Attacking him with his foot on the throat and chest, Drona’s son slew that great hero also while the latter writhed in agony. Yudhamanyu, coming up and believing his comrade to have been slain by a Rakshasa, speedily struck Drona’s son in the chest with a mace. Rushing towards him, Ashvatthama seized him and brought him down to the ground and slew him like an animal while the latter uttered loud shrieks.

  “‘Having slain Yudhamanyu thus, that hero proceeded against the other car-warriors of the king, who were all asleep. He slew all those trembling and shrieking warriors like animals in a sacrifice. Taking up his sword then, he slew many others. Proceeding along the diverse paths of the camp, one after another, Ashvatthama, accomplished in the use of the sword, beheld diverse gulmas and slew in a trice the unarmed and tired warriors sleeping within them. With that excellent sword he cut off combatants and steeds and elephants. Covered all over with blood, he seemed then to be Death himself commissioned by time. Causing his foes to tremble by the repeated blows of his sword that were of three kinds, Ashvatthama became bathed in blood. Covered as he was with blood, and wielding as he did a blazing sword, his form, as he careered in battle, became exceedingly terrible and superhuman. Those who awaked from sleep, O Kaurava, became stupefied with the loud noise (they heard around). Beholding Drona’s son, they looked at each other’s faces and trembled (with fear). Those Kshatriyas, beholding the form of that crusher of foes, believed him to be a Rakshasa and closed their eyes.

  “‘Of terrible form, he careered in the camp like Yama himself, and at last saw the sons of Draupadi and the remnant of the Somakas. Alarmed by the noise, and learning that Dhrishtadyumna had been slain, those mighty car-warriors, the sons of Draupadi, armed with bows, fearlessly poured their shafts on Drona’s son. Awakened by their noise, the Prabhadrakas with Shikhandi at their head, began to grind the son of Drona with their arrows. Drona’s son, beholding them shower their arrows on him, uttered a loud roar and became desirous of slaying those mighty car-warriors. Recollecting the death of his sire, Ashvatthama became filled with rage. Alighting from the terrace of his car, he rushed furiously (against his enemies). Taking up his bright shield with a 1,000 moons and his massive and celestial sword decked with gold, the mighty Ashvatthama rushed against the sons of Draupadi and began to lay about him with his weapon. Then that tiger among men, in that dreadful battle, struck Prativindhya in the abdomen, at which the latter, O king, deprived of life, fell down on the Earth. The valiant Sutasoma, having pierced the son of Drona with a lance, rushed at him with his uplifted sword. Ashvatthama, however cut off Sutasoma’s arm with the sword in grasp, and once more struck him in the flank. At this, Sutasoma fell down, bereft of life. The valiant Shatanika, the son of Nakula, taking up a car-wheel with his two hands, violently struck Ashvatthama at the chest. The regenerate Ashvatthama violently assailed Shatanika after he had hurled that car-wheel. Exceedingly agitated, Nakula’s son fell down upon the Earth, upon which Drona’s son cut off his head. Then Shrutakarma, taking up a spiked bludgeon, attacked Ashvatthama. Furiously rushing at Drona’s son, he assailed him violently on the left part of his forehead. Ashvatthama struck Shrutakarma with his excellent sword on the face. Deprived of senses and his face disfigured, he fell down lifeless on the Earth. At this noise, the heroic Shrutakirti, that great car-warrior, coming up, poured showers of arrows on Ashvatthama. Baffling those arrowy showers with his shield, Ashvatthama cut off from the enemy’s trunk the latter’s beautiful head adorned with ear-rings. Then the slayer of Bhishma, the mighty Shikhandi, with all the Prabhadrakas, assailed the hero from every side with diverse kinds of weapons. Shikhandi struck Ashvatthama with an arrow in the midst of his two eyebrows. Filled with rage at this, Drona’s son, possessed of great might, approached Shikhandi and cut him into twain with his sword. Having slain Shikhandi, Ashvatthama, filled with rage, rushed furiously against the other Prabhadrakas. He proceeded also against the remnant of Virata’s force.

  “‘Endued with great strength, Drona’s son made a heavy carnage amongst the sons, the grandsons, and the followers of Drupada, singling them out one after another. Accomplished in the use of the sword, Ashvatthama then, rushing against other combatants, cut them down with his excellent sword. The warriors in the Pandava camp beheld that Death-Night in her embodied form, a black image, of bloody mouth and bloody eyes, wearing crimson garlands and smeared with crimson unguents, attired in a single piece of red cloth, with a noose in hand, and resembling an elderly lady, employed in chanting a dismal note and standing full before their eyes, and about to lead away men and steeds and elephants all tied in a stout cord. She seemed to take away diverse kinds of spirits, with dishevelled hair and tied together in a cord, as also, O king, many mighty car-warriors divested of their weapons. On other days, O sire, the foremost warriors of the Pandava camp used to see in their dreams that figure leading away the sleeping combatants and Drona’s son smiting them behind! The Pandava soldiers saw that lady and Drona’s son in their dreams every night from the day when the battle between the Kurus and the Pandavas first commenced. Afflicted before by Destiny, they were now smitten by Drona’s son who terrified them all with the frightful roars uttered by him. Afflicted by Destiny, the brave warriors of the Pandava camp, recollecting the sight they had seen in their dreams, identified it with what they now witnessed.

  “‘At the noise made, hundreds and thousands of Pandava bowmen in the camp awoke from their slumbers. Ashvatthama cut off the legs of some, and the hips of others, and pierced some in their flanks, careering like the Destroyer himself let loose by Time. The Earth, O lord, was soon covered with human beings that were crushed into shapelessness or trodden down by elephants and steeds and with others that roared in great affliction. Many of them loudly exclaimed, “What is this?” “Who is this one?” “What is this noise?” “Who is doing what?” While uttering such shrieks, Drona’s son became their Destroyer. That foremost of smiters, the son of Drona, despatched to regions of Yama all those Pandus and Srinjayas who were without armour and weapons. Terrified at that noise, many awoke from sleep. Possessed with fear, blinded by sleep, and deprived of their senses, those warriors seemed to vanish (before the fury of Ashvatthama). The thighs of many were paralysed and many were so stupefied that they lost all their energy. Shrieking and possessed with fear, they began to slay one another. Drona’s son once more got upon his car of terrible clatter and taking up his bow despatched many with his shafts to Yama’s abode. Others awoke from sleep, brave warriors and foremost of men, as they came towards Ashvatthama, were slain before they could approach him and were thus offered up as victims unto that Death-Night. Crushing many with that foremost of cars, he careered through the camp, and covered his foes with repeated showers of arrows. Once again with that beautiful shield of his, adorned with hundred moons, and with that sword of his which was of the hue of the welkin, he careered amidst his enemies. Like an elephant agitating a large lake, Drona’s son, irresistible in battle, agitated the camp of the Pandavas.

  “‘Awaked by the noise, O king, many warriors, afflicted still with sleep and fear, and with senses still under a cloud, ran hither and thither. Many shrieked in harsh tones and many uttered incoherent exclamations. Many succeeded not in obtaining their weapons and armour. The locks of many were dishevelled, and many failed to recognise one another. Having risen from sleep, many fell down, fatigued; some wandered here and there without any purpose. Elephants and steeds, breaking their cords, passed excreta and urine. Many, causing great confusion, huddled together. Amongst these, some through fear laid themselves down on the earth. The animals of the camp crushed
them there.

  “‘While the camp was in this state, Rakshasas, O king, uttered loud roars in joy, O chief of the Bharatas! The loud noise, O king, uttered by ghostly beings in joy, filled all the points of the compass and the welkin. Hearing the wails of woe, elephants, steeds, breaking their cords, rushed hither and thither, crushing the combatants in the camp. As those animals rushed hither and thither, the dust raised by them made the night doubly dark. When that thick gloom set in, the warriors in the camp became perfectly stupefied; sires recognised not their sons, brothers recognised not their brothers. Elephants assailing riderless elephants, and steeds assailing riderless steeds, assailed and broke and crushed the people that stood in their way. Losing all order, combatants rushed and slew one another, and felling those that stood in their way, crushed them into pieces. Deprived of their senses and overcome with sleep, and enveloped in gloom, men, impelled by fate, slew their own comrades. The guards, leaving the gates they watched, and those at duty at the outposts leaving the posts they guarded, fled away for their lives, deprived of their senses and not knowing whither they proceeded. They slew one another, the slayers, O lord, not recognising the slain. Afflicted by Fate, they cried after their sires and sons. While they fled, abandoning their friends and relatives, they called upon one another, mentioning their families and names. Other, uttering cries of “Oh!” and “Alas!” fell down on the earth. In the midst of the battle, Drona’s son, recognising them, slew them all.