smash the thighs of Duryodhana in battle!  O enhancer of the glory of the Kurus, in thy death, O mighty-armed and high-souled one, all that hath become fruitless now!  The promises of men may be ineffectual; but why have the words of the gods uttered in respect of thee been thus fruitless?  O Dhananjaya, while thou wert in thy mother’s lying-in-room, the gods had said,—­O Kunti, this thy son shall not be inferior to him of a thousand eyes!  And in the northern Paripatra mountains, all beings had sung, saying,—­The prosperity (of this race), robbed by foes will be recovered by this one without delay.  No one will be able to vanquish him in battle, while there will be none whom he will not be able to vanquish.  Why then hath that Jishnu endued with great strength been subject to death?  Oh, why doth that Dhananjaya, relying on whom we had hitherto endured all this misery, lie on the ground blighting[108] all my hopes!  Why have those heroes, those mighty sons of Kunti, Bhimasena and Dhananjaya, came under the power of the enemy,—­those who themselves always slew their foes, and whom no weapons could resist!  Surely, this vile heart of mine must be made of adamant, since, beholding these twins lying today on the ground it doth not split!  Ye bulls among men, versed in holy writ and acquainted with the properties of time and place, and endued with ascetic merit, ye who duly performed all sacred rites, why lie ye down, without performing acts deserving of you?  Alas, why lie ye insensible on the earth, with your bodies unwounded, ye unvanquished ones, and with your vows untouched?’ And beholding his brothers sweetly sleeping there as (they usually did) on mountain slopes, the high souled king, overwhelmed with grief and bathed in sweat, came to a distressful condition.  And saying,—­It is even so—­that virtuous lord of men, immersed in an ocean of grief anxiously proceeded to ascertain the cause (of that catastrophe).  And that mighty-armed and high-souled one, acquainted with the divisions of time and place, could not settle his course of action.  Having thus bewailed much in this strain, the virtuous Yudhishthira, the son of Dharma or Tapu, restrained his soul and began to reflect in his mind as to who had slain those heroes.  ’There are no strokes of weapons upon these, nor is any one’s foot-print here.  The being must be mighty I ween, by whom my brothers have been slain.  Earnestly shall I ponder over this, or, let me first drink of the water, and then know all.  It may be that the habitually crooked-minded Duryodhana hath caused this water to be secretly placed here by the king of the Gandharvas.  What man of sense can trust wicked wight of evil passions with whom good and evil are alike?  Or, perhaps, this may be an act of that wicked-souled one through secret messengers of his.’  And it was thus that that highly intelligent one gave way to diverse reflections.  He did not believe that water to have been tainted with poison, for though dead no corpse-like