king,
riding on another car and filled with rage like a snake of virulent
poison, beholding king Yudhishthira the just, quickly addressed his own
driver, O Bharata, saying, "Proceed, proceed, quickly take me there, O
driver, where the royal son of Pandu, clad in mail shineth under yon
umbrella held over his head." Thus urged by the king, the driver, in that
battle, quickly urged his royal master's goodly car towards the face of
Yudhishthira. At this, Yudhishthira also, filled with rage and looking
like an infuriate elephant, urged his own driver saying, "Proceed to
where Suyodhana is." Then those two heroes and brothers and foremost of
car-warriors encountered each other. Both endued with great energy, both
filled with wrath, both difficult of defeat in battle, approaching each
other, those two great bowmen began to mangle each other with their
arrows in that battle. Then king Duryodhana, in that encounter, O sire,
with a broad-headed arrow whetted on stone, cut in twain the bow of the
virtuous monarch. Filled with rage, Yudhishthira could not brook that
insult. Casting aside his broken bow, with eyes red in wrath, Dharma's
son took up another bow at the head of his forces, and then cut off
Duryodhana's standard and bow. Duryodhana then, taking up another bow,
pierced the son of Pandu. Filled with rage, they continued to shoot
showers of shafts at each other. Desirous of vanquishing each other, they
resembled a pair of angry lions. They struck each other in that battle
like a couple of roaring bulls. Those mighty car-warriors continued to
career, expecting to find each other's lapses. Then wounded with shafts
sped from bows drawn to their fullest stretch the two warriors, O king,
looked resplendent like flowering Kinsukas. They then, O king, repeatedly
uttered leonine roars. Those two rulers of men, in that dreadful battle,
also made loud sounds with their palms and caused their bows to twang
loudly. And they blew their conchs too with great force. And they
afflicted each other very much. Then king Yudhishthira, filled with rage,
struck thy son in the chest with three irresistible shafts endued with
force of thunder. Him, however, thy royal son quickly pierced, in return,
with five keen shafts winged with gold and whetted on stone. Then king
Duryodhana, O Bharata, hurled a dart capable of slaying everybody,
exceedingly keen, and resembling a large blazing brand. As it advanced,
king Yudhishthira the just, with sharp shaf