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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 1,984 pages of information about The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa, Volume 2.
Injured by my wicked sons, how can that son of Pandu come under my control now?  Cruel and extremely wrathful, he would break but not bend.  Of oblique glances and contracted eye-brows, how can he be induced to remain quiet?  Endued with heroism, of incomparable might and fair complexion, tall like a palmyra tree, and in height taller than Arjuna by the span of the thumb, the second son of Pandu surpasseth the very steeds in swiftness, and elephants in strength, speaketh in indistinct accents, and possesseth eyes having the hue of honey.  As regards form and might, even such was he in his very boyhood, as I truly heard long before from the lips of Vyasa!  Terrible and possessed of cruel might, when angry he will destroy in battle with his iron-mace cars and elephants and men and horses.  By acting against his wishes, that foremost of smiters who is ever 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 sting, 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. 
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