r. And then,
they both have entered this royal family at the same time. And speaking
such words she always upbraideth me. And beholding me wroth at this, she
suspects me to be attached to thee." When she speaketh thus, great is the
grief that I feel. Indeed, on beholding thee, O Bhima of terrible
prowess, afflicted with such calamity, sunk as I already am in grief on
account of Yudhishthira. I do not desire to live. That youth who on a
single car had vanquished all celestials and men, is now, alas, the
dancing master of king Virata's daughter. That Pritha's son of
immeasurable soul, who had gratified Agni in the forest of Khandava, is
now living in the inner apartments (of a palace) like fire hid in a well.
Alas, the bull among men, Dhananjaya, who was ever the terror of foes, is
now living in a guise that is despaired by all. Alas, he whose mace-like
arms have been cicatrized in consequence of the strokes of his
bow-string, alas that Dhananjaya is passing the days in grief covering
his wrists with bracelets of conchs. Alas, that Dhananjaya the twang of
whose bow-string and the sound of whose leathern fences made every foe
tremble, now entertains only gladdened women with his songs. Oh, that
Dhananjaya whose head was formerly decked with a diadem of solar
splendour, is now wearing braids ending in unsightly curls. O Bhima,
beholding that terrible bowman, Arjuna, now wearing braids and in the
midst of women, my heart is stricken with woe. That high-souled hero who
is master of all the celestial weapons, and who is the repository of all
the sciences, now weareth ear-rings (like one of the fair sex). That
youth whom kings of incomparable prowess could not overpower in fight,
even as the waters of the mighty ocean cannot overleap the continents, is
now the dancing-master of king Virata's daughters and waits upon them in
disguise. O Bhima, that Arjuna the clatter of whose car-wheels caused the
entire earth with her mountains and forests, her mobile and immobile
things to tremble, and whose birth dispelled all the sorrows of Kunti,
that exalted hero, that younger brother of thine, O Bhimasena, now maketh
me weep for him. Beholding him coming towards me, decked in golden
ear-rings and other ornaments, and wearing on the wrists bracelets of
conchs, my heart is afflicted with despondency. And Dhananjaya who hath
not a bowman equal unto him on earth in prowess, now passeth his days in
singing, surrounded by women. Beholding that so