a sleeping lion in a trackless forest.  And embracing Bhimasena even as a she-elephant embraceth her mighty mate, the faultless Panchali addressed him in voice sweet as the sound of a stringed instrument emitting Gandhara note.  And she said, ’Arise, arise!  Why dost thou, O Bhimasena, lie down as one dead?  Surely, he that is not dead, never suffereth a wicked wretch that hath disgraced his wife, to live.’  And awakened by the princess, Bhima of mighty arms, then rose up, and sat upon his couch overlaid with a rich bed.  And he of the Kuru race then addressed the princess—­his beloved wife, saying, ’For what purpose hast thou come hither in such a hurry?  Thy colour is gone and thou lookest lean and pale.  Tell me everything in detail.  I must know the truth.  Whether it be pleasurable or painful, agreeable, or disagreeable, tell me all.  Having heard everything, I shall apply the remedy.  I alone, O Krishna, am entitled to thy confidence in all things, for it is I who deliver thee from perils again and again!  Tell me quickly what is thy wish, and what is the purpose that is in thy view, and return thou to thy bed before others awake.’”

SECTION XVIII

“Draupadi said, ’What grief hath she not who hath Yudhishthira for her husband?  Knowing all my griefs, why dost thou ask me?  The Pratikamin dragged me to the court in the midst of an assembly of courtiers, calling me a slave.  That grief, O Bharata, consumeth me.  What other princess, save Draupadi, would live having suffered such intense misery?  Who else, save myself, could bear such second insult as the wicked Saindhava offered me while residing in the forest?  Who else of my position, save myself, could live, having been kicked by Kichaka in the very sight of the wicked king of the Matsyas?  Of what value is life, O Bharata, when thou, O son of Kunti, dost not think me miserable, although I am afflicted with such woes?  That vile and wicked wretch, O Bharata, known by the name of Kichaka, who is the brother-in-law of king Virata and the commander of his forces, every day, O tiger among men, addresses me who am residing in the palace as a Sairindhri, saying, ’Do thou become my wife.’—­Thus solicited, O slayer of foes, by that wretch deserving to be slain, my heart is bursting like a fruit ripened in season.  Censure thou that elder brother of thine addicted to execrable dice, through whose act alone I have been afflicted with such woe.  Who else, save him that is a desperate gambler, would play, giving up kingdom and everything including even myself, in order to lead a life in the woods?  If he had gambled morning and evening for many years together, staking nishkas by thousand and other kinds of substantial wealth, still his silver, and gold, and robes, and vehicles, and teams, and goats, and sheep, and multitudes of steeds and mares and mules would not have sustained any diminution.  But now deprived of prosperity by the rivalry of dice,