er wrathful and furious, hath before been, O child, insulted by me.
Alas, how will my sons bear that mace of his which is straight, made of
steel, thick, of beautiful sides, adorned with gold, capable of slaying a
hundred, and producing a terrible sound when hurled at the foe? Alas, O
child, my foolish sons are desirous of crossing that inaccessible ocean
constituted by Bhima, which is really shoreless, without a raft on it,
immeasurable in depth, and full of currents impetuous as the course of
arrows. Fools in reality though boasting of their wisdom, alas, my
children do not listen to me even though I cry out. Beholding only the
honey they do not see the terrible fall that is before them. They that
will rush to battle with Death himself in that human shape, are certainly
doomed to destruction by the Supreme Ordainer, like animals within the
lion's view. Full four cubits in length, endued with six sides and great
might, and having also a deadly touch, when he will hurl his mace from
the sling, how shall my sons, O child, bear its impetus? Whirling his
mace and breaking therewith the heads of (hostile) elephants, licking
with his tongue the corners of his mouth and drawing long breaths, when
he will rush with loud roars against mighty elephants, returning the
yells of those infuriated beasts that might rush against him, and when
entering the close array of cars he will slay, after taking proper aim,
the chief warriors before him, what mortal of my party will escape from
him looking like a blazing flame? Crushing my forces and cutting a
passage through them, that mighty armed hero, dancing with mace in hand,
will exhibit the scene, witnessed during the universal Dissolution at the
end of a Yuga. Like an infuriated elephant crushing trees adorned with
flowers, Vrikodara, in battle will furiously penetrate the ranks of my
sons. Depriving my warriors of their cars, drivers, steeds, and
flag-staff, and afflicting all warriors fighting from cars and the backs
of elephants, that tiger among men will, O Sanjaya, like the impetuous
current of Ganga throwing down diverse trees standing on its banks, crush
in battle the troops of my sons. Without doubt, O Sanjaya, afflicted by
the fear of Bhimasena, my sons and their dependents and all the allied
kings will fly in different directions. It was this Bhima who, having
entered of old, with Vasudeva's aid, the innermost apartments of
Jarasandha, overthrew that king endued with great energy