with sorrow and began to sigh like a snake.  Distressed with grief at seeing his mother and brothers asleep on the bare ground, Vrikodara began to weep, ’Oh, wretch that I am, who behold my brothers asleep on the bare ground, what can befall me more painful than this?  Alas, they who formerly at Varanavata could not sleep on the softest and costliest beds are now asleep on the bare ground!  Oh, what more painful sight shall I ever behold than that of Kunti—­the sister of Vasudeva, that grinder of hostile hosts—­the daughter of Kuntiraja,—­herself decked with every auspicious mark, the daughter-in-law of Vichitravirya,—­the wife of the illustrious Pandu,—­the mother of us (five brothers),—­resplendent as the filaments of the lotus and delicate and tender and fit to sleep on the costliest bed—­thus asleep, as she should never be, on the bare ground!  Oh, she who hath brought forth these sons by Dharma and Indra and Maruta—­she who hath ever slept within palaces—­now sleepeth, fatigued, on the bare ground!  What more painful sight shall ever be beheld by me than that of these tigers among men (my brothers) asleep on the ground!  Oh, the virtuous Yudhishthira, who deserveth the sovereignty of the three worlds, sleepeth, fatigued, like an ordinary man, on the bare ground!  This Arjuna of the darkish hue of blue clouds, and unequalled amongst men sleepeth on the ground like an ordinary person!  Oh, what can be more painful than this?  Oh the twins, who in beauty are like the twin Aswins amongst the celestials, are asleep like ordinary mortals on the bare ground!  He who hath no jealous evil-minded relatives, liveth in happiness in this world like a single tree in a village.  The tree that standeth single in a village with its leaves and fruits, from absence of other of the same species, becometh sacred and is worshipped and venerated by all.  They again that have many relatives who, however, are all heroic and virtuous, live happily in the world without sorrow of any kind.  Themselves powerful and growing in prosperity and always gladdening their friends and relatives, they live, depending on each other, like tall trees growing in the same forest.  We, however, have been forced in exile by the wicked Dhritarashtra and his sons having escaped with difficulty, from sheer good fortune, a fiery death.  Having escaped from that fire, we are now resting in the shade of this tree.  Having already suffered so much, where now are we to go?  Ye sons of Dhritarashtra of little foresight, ye wicked fellows, enjoy your temporary success.  The gods are certainly auspicious to you.  But ye wicked wretches, ye are alive yet, only because Yudhishthira doth not command me to take your lives.  Else this very day, filled with wrath, I would send thee, (O Duryodhana), to the regions of Yama (Pluto) with thy children and friends and brothers, and Karna, and (Sakuni) the son of Suvala!  But what can I do, for, ye sinful wretches, the virtuous king Yudhishthira, the eldest of the Pandavas, is not yet angry with you?’