true that defeat is not much removed from death, but his loss also,
O Krishna, is not less who winneth victory. He himself may not be killed,
but his adversaries will kill at least some one that is dear to him, or
some others and thus the man, O sire, deprived of strength and not seeing
before him his sons and brothers, becometh indifferent, O Krishna, to
life itself. Those that are quiet, modest, virtuous, and compassionate,
are generally slain in battle, while they that are wicked escape. Even
after slaying one's foes, repentance, O Janardana, possesseth the heart.
He that surviveth among the foes giveth trouble, for the survivor,
collecting a force, seeketh to destroy the surviving victor. In hopes of
terminating the dispute, one often seeketh to exterminate the foe. Thus
victory createth animosity, and he that is defeated liveth in sorrow. He
that is peaceful, sleepeth in happiness, giving up all thoughts of
victory and defeat, whereas he that hath provoked hostility always
sleepeth in misery, with, indeed, an anxious heart, as if sleeping with a
snake in the same room. He that exterminates seldom winneth fame. On the
other hand, such a person reapeth eternal infamy in the estimation of
all. Hostilities, waged over so long, cease not; for if there is even one
alive in the enemy's family, narrators are never wanted to remind him of
the past. Enmity, O Kesava, is never neutralised by enmity; on the other
hand, it is fomented by enmity, like fire fed by clarified butter.
Therefore, there can be no peace without the annihilation of one party,
for flaws may always be detected of which advantage may be taken by one
side or other. They that are engaged in watching for flaws have this
vice. Confidence in one's own prowess troubleth the core of one's heart
like an incurable disease. Without either renouncing that at once, or
death, there can be no peace. It is true, O slayer of Madhu, that
exterminating the foe by the very roots, may lead to good result in the
shape of great prosperity, yet such an act is most cruel. The peace that
may be brought about by our renouncing the kingdom is hardly different
from death, which is implied by the loss of kingdom, in consequence of
the design of the enemy and the utter ruin of ourselves. We do not wish
to give up the kingdom, nor do we wish to see the extinction of our race.
Under these circumstances, therefore, the peace that is obtained through
even humiliation is the best. When these