That being, however, devoured all those
shafts shot by Drona's son. Like the vadava fire devouring the waters of
the ocean, that being devoured the shafts sped by the son of Drona.
Beholding his arrowy showers prove fruitless, Ashvatthama hurled at him a
long dart blazing like a flame of fire. That dart of blazing point,
striking against that being, broke into pieces like a huge meteor at the
end of the yuga breaking and falling down from the firmament after
striking against the Sun. Ashvatthama then, without losing a moment, drew
from its sheath an excellent scimitar of the colour of the sky and endued
with a golden hilt. The scimitar came out like a blazing snake from its
hole. The intelligent son of Drona then hurled that excellent scimitar at
that being. The weapon, approaching that being, disappeared within his
body like a mongoose disappearing in its hole. Filled with rage, the son
of Drona then hurled a blazing mace of the proportions of a pole set up
in honour of Indra. The being devoured that mace also.
At last, when all his weapons were exhausted Ashvatthama, casting his
eyes around, beheld the whole firmament densely crowded with images of
Janardana. Drona's son, divested of weapons, beholding that wonderful
sight, recollected the words of Kripa, and turning pale with grief, said,
"He that listens not to the beneficial words of advising friends is
obliged to repent, being overwhelmed with calamity, even as my foolish
self for having disregarded my two well-wishers.
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