son, when he with his sons perpetrated this inhuman act, beheld on the spot where dead bodies are burnt, flowering trees of a golden hue.  Verily he must have asked them, when those stood before him with their shoulders projected forward towards him, and with their large red eyes staring at him, and he must have listened to their evil advice, since he fearlessly sent away Yudhishthira to the forest, who had all his weapons of war with him and was borne company by his younger brothers.  This Bhima here, whose voracious appetite is like that of a wolf, is able to destroy with the sole strength of his powerful arms, and without the help of any weapons of war, a formidable array of hostile troops.  The forces in the field of battle were utterly unmanned on hearing his war-cry.  And now the strong one is suffering from hunger and thirst, and is emaciated with toilsome journeys.  But when he will take up in his hand arrows and diverse other weapons of war, and meet his foes in the field of battle, he will then remember the sufferings of his exceedingly miserable forest-life, and kill his enemies to a man:  of a certainty do I anticipate this.  There is not throughout the whole world a single soul who can boast of strength and prowess equal to his.  And his body, alas! is emaciated with cold, and heat and winds.  But when he will stand up for fight, he will not leave a single man out of his foes.  This powerful hero, who is a very great warrior when mounted on a car—­this Bhima, of appetite rivalling a wolf’s conquered single-handed all the rulers of men in the east, together with, those who followed them in battle; and he returned from those wars safe and uninjured.  And that same Bhima, miserably dressed in the bark of trees, is now leading a wretched life in the woods.  This powerful Sahadeva vanquished all the kings in the south; those lords of men who had gathered on the coast of the sea,—­look at him now in an anchorite’s dress.  Valiant in battle Nakula vanquished single-handed the kings who ruled the regions towards the west,—­and he now walks about the wood, subsisting on fruit and roots, with a matted mass of hair on the head, and his body besmeared all over with dirt.  This daughter of a king, who is a great soldier when mounted on a car, took her rise from beneath the altar, during the pomp of sacrificial rites.  She hath been always accustomed to a life of happiness; how is she now enduring this exceedingly miserable life in this wood!  And the son of the god of virtue,—­virtue which stands at the head of all the three pursuits of life—­and the son of the wind-god and also the son of the lord of celestials, and those two sons of the celestial physicians,—­being the sons of all those gods and always accustomed to a life of happiness, how are they living in this wood, deprived of all comforts?  When the son of Virtue met with defeat and when his wife, his brothers, his followers, and himself were all driven forth, and Duryodhana began to flourish, why did not the earth subside with all its hills?’”