Self-love slays
Our noble brother. Bhima, follow! Each
Pays what his debt was."
Which Arjuna heard,
Weeping to see them fall; and that stout son
Of Pandu, that destroyer of his foes,
That Prince, who drove through crimson waves of war,
In old days, with his milk-white chariot-steeds,
Him, the arch hero, sank! Beholding this,--
The yielding of that soul unconquerable,
Fearless, divine, from Sakra's self derived,
Arjuna's--Bhima cried aloud: "O King!
This man was surely perfect. Never once,
Not even in slumber, when the lips are loosed,
Spake he one word that was not true as truth.
Ah, heart of gold! why art thou broke? O King!
Whence falleth he?"
And Yudhi-sthira said,
Not pausing: "Once he lied, a lordly lie!
He bragged--our brother--that a single day
Should see him utterly consume, alone,
All those his enemies,--which could not be.
Yet from a great heart sprang the unmeasured speech,
Howbeit a finished hero should not shame
Himself in such a wise, nor his enemy,
If he will faultless fight and blameless die:
This was Arjuna's sin. Follow thou me!"
So the King still went on. But Bhima next
Fainted, and stayed upon the way, and sank;
But, sinking, cried behind the steadfast Prince:
"Ah, Brother, see! I die! Look upon me,
Thy well beloved! Wherefore falter I,
Who strove to stand?"
And Yudhi-sthira said:
"More than was well the goodly things of earth
Pleased thee, my pleasant brother! Light the offence
And large thy spirit; but the o'erfed soul
Plumed itself over others.
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