Those Dhartarashtra combatants, filled with rage and invincible in battle, having approached Bhimasena, uttered furious shouts.  They then spoke not to one another.  Encompassing Bhima in that battle, they began to strike him from all sides.  Surrounded by that large body of warriors on foot and struck by them in that battle, Bhima did not stir from where he stood fixed like Mainaka mountain.  His assailants, meanwhile, filled with rage, O monarch, endeavoured to afflict that mighty car-warrior of the Pandavas and checked other combatants (that tried to rescue him).  Encountered by those warriors, Bhima became filled with fury.  Quickly alighting from his car, he proceeded on foot against them.  Taking up his massive mace adorned with gold, he began to slay thy troops like the Destroyer himself armed with his club.  The mighty Bhima, with his mace, crushed those 21,000 foot-soldiers who were without cars and steeds and elephants.  Having slain that strong division, Bhima, of prowess incapable of being baffled, showed himself with Dhrishtadyumna in his front.  The Dhartarashtra foot-soldiers, thus slain, lay down on the ground, bathed in blood, like Karnikaras with their flowery burthens laid low by a tempest.  Adorned with garlands made of diverse kinds of flowers, and decked with diverse kinds of earrings, those combatants of diverse races, who had hailed from diverse realms, lay down on the field, deprived of life.  Covered with banners and standards, that large host of foot-soldiers, thus cut down, looked fierce and terrible and awful as they lay down on the field.  The mighty car-warriors, with their followers, that fought under Yudhishthira’s lead, all pursued thy illustrious son Duryodhana.  Those great bowmen, beholding thy troops turn away from the battle, proceeded against Duryodhana, but they could not transgress him even as the ocean cannot transgress its continents.  The prowess that we then beheld of thy son was exceedingly wonderful, since all the Parthas, united together, could not transgress his single self.  Then Duryodhana, addressing his own army which had not fled far but which, mangled with arrows, had set its heart on flight, said these words, “I do not see the spot on plain or mountain, whither, if ye fly, the Pandavas will not pursue and slay ye!  What is the use then of flight?  The army of the Pandavas hath been reduced in numbers.  The two Krishnas are exceedingly mangled.  If all of us make a stand, victory will be certainly ours!  If you fly away, losing all order, the sinful Pandavas, pursuing you will slay you all!  If, on the other hand, we make a stand, good will result to us!  Listen, all you Kshatriyas that are assailed here!  When the Destroyer always slays heroes and cowards, what man is there so stupid that, calling himself a Kshatriya, will not fight?  Good will result to us if we stay in the front of the angry Bhimasena!  Death in battle, while struggling according to Kshatriya practices, is fraught with happiness!  Winning