And of massive wood unbending, Drupad made a stubborn bow,
Saving Arjun prince or chieftain might not bend the weapon low,
And he made a whirling discus, hung it 'neath the open sky,
And beyond the whirling discus placed a target far and high,
“Whose strings this bow,” said Drupad, “hits the target in his pride
Through the high and circling discus, wins Panchala's princely bride!”
And they spake the monarch's mandate in the kingdoms near and far,
And from every town and country princes came and chiefs of war,
Came the pure and saintly rishis for to bless the holy rite,
Came the Kurus with brave Karna in their pride and matchless might,
Brahmans came from distant regions with their sacred learning blest,
Drupad with a royal welcome greeted every honoured guest.
Now the festal day approacheth! Gathering men with ocean's voice,
Filled the wide and circling stages to behold the maiden's choice,
Royal guests and princely suitors came in pomp of wealth and pride,
Car-borne chiefs and mailéd warriors came to win the beauteous bride!
North-east of the festive city they enclosed a level ground,
Many a dome and stately palace cunning builders built around,
And by moat and wall surrounded, pierced by gate and archéd door,
By a canopy of splendour was the red field covered o'er!