The sight of the beautiful Draupadi fired the ardour of the assembled princes. One after the other they came forward to essay the feat but, though they tugged and strained and sweated till their faces were distorted and their clothes disordered, they were not even able to string the mighty bow. Karna at length stepped up and stringing the bow with ease placed an arrow for the trial. But seeing Karna, Draupadi loudly exclaimed: “I will not elect a Suta for my lord.”[66] “Then Karna, laughing in vexation and casting a glance on the sun, threw aside the bow already drawn to a circle.” Other competitors, princes of great renown, still pressed forward to try what they could do, but met with no success. When all the Kshatriya lords had retired discomfited, Arjuna advanced from his place amongst the Brahmans and, amidst a great deal of clamour, strung the bow and, with unerring skill, shot the mark. A tumultuous shout arose from the assembled multitude; there was a great uproar in the firmament, and the gods showered down flowers upon the happy hero. “And Krishná beholding the mark shot and beholding Partha (Arjuna) also like unto Indra himself, who had shot the mark, was filled with joy, and approached the son of Kunti with a white robe and a garland of flowers.” The Kshatriya Rajahs and chiefs were wild at their defeat by a Brahman, and although they were prepared to admit that their kingdoms, and they themselves also, existed solely for the benefit of the Brahmans, they demurred to such a conclusion of the swayamvara of a Kshatriya princess, and made a fierce attack upon King Draupada, who was willing to hand Draupadi over to the victor. Arjuna rushed at once to the king’s rescue, accompanied by the redoubtable Bhima, armed with nothing less than an uprooted tree and, though a desperate fight ensued, the Pandava brothers succeeded, partly through the mediation of Krishna—whom we here meet for the first time—in leaving the amphitheatre, closely followed by beautiful Draupadi.
Then those illustrious “sons of Pretha returning to the potter’s abode, approached their mother. And those first of men represented Yájnaseni (Draupadi) unto their mother as the alms they had obtained that day. And Kunti who was there within the room and saw not her sons replied, saying, ‘Enjoy ye all (what ye have obtained).’” The moment after she beheld Krishná, and then she said, “O, what have I said?” However, Draupadi was fated to have five husbands for, in a previous existence on the earth, she had, on five different occasions, asked the gods for a good husband as the reward of the austerities she practised. Yudhisthira knew this. It had been revealed to him by Vyasa. So when the matter was referred to him, as head of the family, he said simply: “The auspicious Draupadi shall be the common wife of us all;” a decision which pleased his brothers considerably for, as the poet tells us, “The sons of Pandu then hearing those words of their eldest brother, began to revolve them in their minds in great cheerfulness.”
Their life in the potter’s house was simplicity itself. Krishná prepared the food for the family and served it out to the several members, taking only a little for herself and eating it last of all. At night all seven slept on a bed of kusa grass covered with deerskins. The brothers lay side by side, their mother along the line of their heads, and Krishná “along the line of their feet as their nether pillow.”
When Draupadi, nothing loth, had gone away with the handsome victor, the King of Panchala was naturally very anxious to find out who the successful suitor really was. By a little artful eavesdropping on the part of Dhrista-dyumna, the secret became known to him, and he rejoiced to find what a good match Krishná had made. Arjuna caused great preparations to be undertaken for the wedding. He did not quite like the proposed fivefold arrangement; but was induced to consent to it, after Vyasa himself had explained to him how polyandry was not in itself sinful, and how this particular marriage had been pre-arranged by Destiny. It only remained for Draupadi to be led round the sacred fire on five successive days by the five brothers in turn. After the five weddings the King of the Panchalas made valuable presents to Draupadi’s husbands, including gold, chariots, horses and elephants, “and he also gave them a hundred female servants, all in the prime of youth and decked in costly robes and ornaments and floral wreaths.” Krishna also bestowed upon the happy Pandavas presents of various sorts,—costly robes, soft blankets, golden ornaments, and superb vessels set with gems and diamonds. And, in addition to these, “many elephants and horses, crores of gold coins, and thousands of young and beautiful female servants brought from various countries.”[67]
The alliance thus formed with the Rajah of Penchala made a great change in the fortunes of the Pandavas, and induced their cousins at Hastinapur to make overtures of friendship to them. The negotiations led, at length, to an amicable arrangement, by which the Kauravas continued to remain and rule at Hastinapur, while the Pandavas were assisted to settle themselves in Khandava-prasta on the banks of the Jumna. The portion of the country assigned to the sons of Pandu “was an unreclaimed desert,” but they soon built a gorgeous and wonderful city there, Indraprasta,[68] “surrounded by a trench as wide as the sea, and by walls reaching high into the heavens ... and the gateways that protected the town were high as the Mandara Mountain and massy as the clouds.”
At Indraprasta the brothers lived happily with their wife, having, upon the advice of a Rishi, arranged “that when one of them would be sitting with Draupadi, if any other of the four would see that one thus, he (the intruder) must retire into the forest for twelve years, passing his days as a Brahmachárin.” One day a Brahman, who had been robbed of his cattle, came in great haste to the king’s palace and, lamenting bitterly, accused the Pandavas of allowing him to be deprived of his property by contemptible thieves. Arjuna, recognizing his duty to afford the Brahman redress and protection, resolved to pursue the robbers; but his arms were in the room where Draupadi was sitting with Yudhisthira. Balancing against each other the sin of allowing the Brahman’s wrongs to go unavenged, and the breach of decorum involved in entering the chamber when his brother was engaged with Draupadi, he deliberately chose the latter, notwithstanding the consequences of their mutual agreement on that point. Once in possession of his arms he pursued the thieves, recovered the stolen property, and restored it to the Brahman; but on returning to the palace he voluntarily determined to go into exile in fulfilment of the terms of the compact about Draupadi.
Arjuna’s twelve years of exile were full of adventure. At the spot where the Ganges enters the plains (Hurdwar) he stepped into the sacred stream for a bath, was drawn down into the water by Ulupi, the daughter of the King of the Nagas, and taken by her to the beautiful mansion of her father. The love-sick Ulupi courted Arjuna so warmly that he could not find it in his heart to resist her solicitations. In return, Ulupi bestowed upon Arjuna the gift of invisibility in water.
From one sacred stream to another, from one holy place to another, wandered the willing exile, giving away much wealth to the Brahmans. At length he travelled as far as Munipur. Now the King of Munipur had a beautiful daughter named Chitrángadá. Arjuna saw, and fell desperately in love with the fair maiden. He asked her hand in marriage and obtained it, on condition that the first son born of the union should be considered to belong to the King of Munipur, in order to succeed him on the throne of that country. Three years did Arjuna live at Munipur, but when a son was born to Chitrángadá he took an affectionate farewell of her, and set out again upon his wanderings. Visiting many lands and experiencing strange adventures, he at length arrived at Dwarka, on the shore of the Southern Sea, the capital of his kinsman, Krishna, King of the Yadhavas. A casual sight of Subhadrá, the handsome sister of Krishna, made a strong and visible impression upon the susceptible heart of Arjuna. Krishna perceived the effect produced by his sister’s charms, and was not indisposed to an alliance with the Pandava hero. Should Subhadrá, now of age, hold a swayamvara or maiden’s choice? Krishna thought the result of such a plan might be disappointing; for who could say what choice a capricious girl might make! So, he artfully suggested to Arjuna to carry off the maiden by force, since “in the case of Kshatriyas that are brave, a forcible abduction for purposes of marriage is applauded, as the learned have said.” Arjuna, who was ready to achieve anything achievable by man to obtain “that girl of sweet smiles,” soon put the suggestion into practice, to the great indignation of the Yadhava chiefs; but Krishna threw oil upon the troubled waters, and everything was amicably settled in the end, the wedding being celebrated on a magnificent scale. After the prescribed twelve years of exile were completed, Arjuna returned to Khandava-prasta with Subhadrá, and was loyally welcomed by all. But when he visited Draupadi she evinced very natural signs of jealousy, and recommended Arjuna to go to the daughter of the Satwata race. However he coaxed her over, and when Subhadrá, dressed in red silk, but in the simple fashion of a cow-keeper, approached and bowed down to Draupadi, saying, “I am thy maid,” her resentful feelings were disarmed; she rose hastily and embraced her young rival with the significant greeting: “Let thy husband be without a foe.”
Krishna, the Prince of Dwarka, now visited his brother-in-law in great state, and brought with him a vast store of valuable gifts, amongst which we need only notice “a thousand damsels well skilled in assisting at the operations of bathing and at drinking.” No light recommendations apparently, for it would seem that in those good old times the practice of drinking wine was quite common; as we are told by the poet, in connection with a great picnic, given by Arjuna and Krishna, that “the women of the party, all of full rotund hips and fine deep bosoms and handsome eyes, and gait unsteady with wine, began to sport there at the command of Krishna and Partha (Arjuna). And some amongst the women sported as they liked in the woods, and some in the waters, and some within the mansions as directed by Partha and Govinda (Krishna). And Draupadi and Subhadrá, exhilarated with wine, began to give away unto the women so sporting their costly robes and ornaments. And some amongst those women began to dance in joy, and some began to sing, and some amongst them began to laugh and jest, and some to drink excellent wines.”
The picnic referred to was succeeded by a terrible conflict, in which Krishna and Arjuna, in the interests of Agni, opposed Indra and his celestial hosts. Agni, the god of fire, having drunk a continuous stream of clarified butter for twelve years, during the sacrifice of King Swetaki, was satiated with his greasy fare, had become pale and could not shine as before. To recover his health a change of diet was necessary for the god, and he, therefore, wished to devour, with his flaming tongues, the forest of Khandava in that land; but whenever he attempted to do this, Indra opposed him, quenching the flames raised by the fire-god with torrents of rain from above. However, Arjuna, in his wonderful way, “covered the forest of Khandava with innumerable arrows, like the moon covering the atmosphere with a thick fog,” and in this manner protected the burning forest from Indra’s drenching showers. A fierce battle with Indra, backed by Asuras, Gandharvas, Yakshas, and a host of others, resulted in the complete victory of Arjuna and his kinsman, in the total consumption of the forest by fire, and the almost wholesale destruction of all its inhabitants of every kind.