assembly I was treated as a
slave by those sinful wretches. And when the Pandavas beholding it all
sat silent without giving way to wrath, in my heart I called upon thee, O
Govinda, saying,--"Save me, O save me!"--Then the illustrious king
Dhritarashtra, my father-in-law, said unto me, "Ask thou any boon, O
princess of Panchala. Thou deservest boons and even honour at my hands."
Thus addressed I said, "Let the Pandavas be free men with their cars and
weapons." Upon this the Pandavas, O Kesava, were freed but only to be
exiled into the woods. O Janardana, thou knowest all these sorrows of
mine. Rescue me, O lotus-eyed one, with my husbands, kinsmen, and
relatives, from that grief. Morally, O Krishna, I am the daughter-in-law
of both Bhishma and Dhritarashtra. Though such, I was yet forcibly made a
slave. Fie to Partha's bowmanship, oh, fie to Bhimasena's might since
Duryodhana, O Krishna, liveth for even a moment. If I deserve any favour
at thy hands, if thou hast any compassion for me, let thy wrath, O
Krishna, be directed towards the sons of Dhritarashtra.'"

Vaisampayana continued, "Having said this, the beautiful Krishna of eyes
that were black in hue and large like lotus leaves, bathed in tears, and
walking like a cow-elephant, approached the lotus-eyed Krishna, and
taking with her left hand her own beautiful tresses of curly ends,
deep-blue in hue and scented with every perfume, endued with every
auspicious mark, and though gathered into a braid, yet soft and glossy
like a mighty snake, spake these words, 'Lotus-eyed one that art anxious
for peace with the enemy, thou shouldst, in all thy acts, call to thy
mind these tresses of mine seized by Dussasana's rude hands! If Bhima and
Arjuna, O Krishna, have become so low as to long for peace, my aged
father then with his war-like sons will avenge for me in battle. My five
sons also that are endued with great energy, with Abhimanyu, O slayer of
Madhu, at their head, will fight with the Kauravas. What peace can this
heart of mine know unless I behold Dussasana's dark arm severed from his
trunk and pulverised to atoms? Thirteen long years have I passed in
expectation of better times, hiding in my heart my wrath like a
smouldering fire. And now pierced by Bhima's wordy darts that heart cf
mine is about to break, for the mighty-armed Bhima now casteth his eye on
morality.' Uttering these words with voice choked in tears, the large-eyed
Krishna began to weep aloud, with convu