That man who is possessed of good fortune meets with good. I am
bereft of good fortune, and, therefore, am deprived of my children, O
Sanjaya. Old as I am, how shall I now submit to the sway of enemies? I do
not think anything other than exile into the woods to be good for me, O
lord. Deprived of relatives and kinsmen as I am, I will go into the
woods. Nothing other than an exile into the woods can be better for me
who am fallen into this plight and who am shorn of my wings, O Sanjaya.
When Duryodhana had been slain, when Shalya has been slain, when
Duhshasana and Vivingsati and the mighty Vikarna have been slain, how
shall I be able to bear the roars of that Bhimasena who hath alone slain
a hundred sons of mine in battle? He will frequently speak of the
slaughter of Duryodhana in my hearing. Burning with grief and sorrow, I
shall not be able to bear his cruel words.'"
Vaishampayana continued, "Even thus that king, burning with grief and
deprived of relatives and kinsmen, repeatedly swooned, overwhelmed with
sorrow on account of the death of his sons. Having wept for a long while,
Dhritarashtra, the son of Ambika, breathed heavy and hot sighs at the
thought of his defeat. Overwhelmed with sorrow, and burning with grief,
that bull of Bharata's race once more enquired of his charioteer Sanjaya,
the son of Gavalgana, the details of what had happened.
"Dhritarashtra said, 'After Bhishma and Drona had been slain, and the
Suta's son also overthrown, whom did my warriors make their
generalissimo? The Pandavas are slaying without any delay everyone whom
my warriors are making their generalissimo in battle.
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