ose men who had followed Arjuna from
Dwaravati, were distributed into groups, and bestowed upon Vajra. Having
done all these acts suited to the occasion, Arjuna, with eyes bathed in
tears, then entered the retreat of Vyasa. There he beheld the Island-born
Rishi seated at his ease.'"

8

"Vaishampayana said: 'As Arjuna entered the asylum of the truthful Rishi,
he beheld the son of Satyavati seated in a secluded spot.

"'Approaching that Rishi of high vows and endued with a knowledge of all
duties, he said, "I am Arjuna," and then awaited his pleasure. Satyavati's
son, endued with high penances, answered, saying "Welcome!" Of tranquil
soul, the great Muni further said, "Take thy seat." Seeing that the son of
Pritha was exceedingly cheerless and breathing heavy sighs repeatedly and
filled with despair, Vyasa addressed him, saying, "Hast thou been
sprinkled with water from anybody's nails or hair, or the end of anybody's
cloth, or from the mouth of a jar? Hast thou had sexual congress with any
woman before the cessation of her functional flow? Hast thou slain a
Brahmana? Hast thou been vanquished in battle? Thou lookest like one
shorn of prosperity. I do not know that thou hast been defeated by
anyone. Why then, O chief of Bharata's race, this exceedingly dejected
aspect? It behoveth thee, O son of Pritha, to tell me all, if, indeed,
there be no harm in telling it."

"'Arjuna said, "He whose complexion was like that of a (newly-risen) cloud,
he whose eyes were like a pair of large lotus petals, Krishna, has, with
Rama, cast off his body and ascended to Heaven. At Prabhasa, through iron
bolts generated by the curse denounced by Brahmanas, the destruction has
taken place of the Vrishni heroes. Awful hath that carnage been, and not
even a single hero has escaped. The heroes of the Bhoja, the Andhaka, and
the Vrishni races, O Brahmana, who were all endued with high souls, great
might, and leonine pride, have slaughtered one another in battle.
Possessed of arms that looked like maces of iron, and capable of bearing
the strokes of heavy clubs and darts, alas, they have all been slain with
blades of Eraka grass. Behold the perverse course of Time. 500,000
mighty-armed warriors have thus been laid low. Encountering one another,
they have met with destruction. Thinking repeatedly of this carnage of
the Yadava warriors of immeasurable energy and of the illustrious
Krishna, I fail to derive peace of mind. The death of the wield