And he dashed behind the warrior, and on foot the chief pursued,
Caught him as the angry Krishna still his distant foeman viewed,
Stalwart Arjun lifted Krishna, as the storm lifts up a tree,
Placed him on his battle-chariot, and he bent to him his knee:
“Pardon, Krishna, this compulsion! pardon this transgression bold,
But while Arjun lives, O chieftain! weapon of thy wrath withhold!
By my warlike Abhimanyu, fair Subhadra's darling boy,
By my brothers, dearer, truer, than in hours of pride and joy,
By my troth I pledge thee, Krishna,—let thy angry discus sleep,—
Archer Arjun meets his foeman, and his plighted word will keep.”
Forthwith rushed the fiery Arjun in his sounding battle-car,
And like waves before him parted serried ranks of hostile war,
Vainly hurled his lance Duryodhan 'gainst the valiant warrior's face,
Vainly Salya, king of Madra, threw with skill his pond'rous mace,
With disdain the godlike Arjun dashed the feeble darts aside,
Hold aloft his famed gandiva as he stood with haughty pride,
Beat of drum and blare of sankha and the thunder of his car,
And his weapon's fearful accents rose terrific near and far!
Came resistless Pandav forces, sweeping onward wave on wave,
Chedis, Matsyas, and Panchalas, chieftains true and warriors brave!