Krishna, seeking to refresh the memory of Arjuna, asked him to recall the event that occurred in the kingdom of Virata, when he alone went forth to turn back the stolen cattle, and to recount what the grandsire then spoke to Duryodhana. He reminded him that the warrior who faced that task was none other than Arjuna himself, and that on that occasion Bhishma had spoken words of grave foresight. He had said that there was no certainty of victory in war, that when armies clash for sovereignty, either side may prevail, yet triumph finally crowns only one. As one hand rises, the other must fall, and therefore both sides must prepare themselves equally to accept either defeat or victory before stepping onto the battlefield. Otherwise, he had advised, they should seek a pact and avert destruction.
To this counsel, Duryodhana had replied with obstinate pride. He declared that there could be no pact with the sons of Pandu, that he would not yield even half the kingdom, and that he would engage in battle with courage and rule the entire realm alone. This decision of Duryodhana, spoken before Bhishma, is known to all, and he has already tasted the fruit of those words. Yet even after defeat, his perverse mind still draws him toward conflict, deaf to the counsel of elders and bent upon defiance.
Krishna then reflected that Duryodhana’s faulty thoughts might continue to ride unchecked within him, yet at the request of Dharmaraja he himself must go to the assembly of the Kurus as their representative. He resolved to discern the temper of Hastinapura and to attempt, however faint the hope, to forge an understanding. He planned to gather knowledge of their designs, though he was firmly convinced that his diplomatic mission would meet failure in view of the attitude of Duryodhana and his allies, and the complacent weakness of King Dhritarashtra.
At this point Nakula addressed Krishna and spoke with gentle clarity. He said that the words of Dharmaraja, Bhima, and Arjuna were not shallow, for they bore the weight of true suffering. Their minds, he said, were no longer aggressive as during the years of forest exile and concealment, nor were they driven by vengeance. Their severity toward the Kauravas had softened. He added, by way of illustration, that when a foolish man strikes a cow, another should not in turn strike the calf; the intent was not necessarily to trouble the Kauravas in the same manner in which they had once harassed the Pandavas. Nakula’s nature, ever plain and positive, unlike the subtle criticism of Dharmaraja, the fierce directness of Bhima, or the smooth irony of Arjuna, revealed his innocence in expressing the true inclination of his heart.
He openly confessed that while Duryodhana and his allies would surely persist on a wrongful path, the Pandavas did not wish to be cruel. He believed that Arjuna’s heroism in turning back the cattle might have softened the stance of the Kauravas. By Krishna’s grace, seven great divisions of armies had joined the side of Dharmaraja, and the Kauravas were aware of this. They also knew of the daring resolve of the kings of Panchala, the Yadavas, and the Matsyas, and of the strength and valor of Bhima and Arjuna, as well as Krishna’s own association with the son of Dharma. Would not such considerations move Drona, Kripa, Bahlika, and Bhishma to correct their attitude? In the presence of Vidura, Nakula believed, Krishna’s moral discourse would not fail to influence them, and they would be bound by his counsel. He expressed confidence that Duryodhana and his allies would fear to displease Krishna, and that the mission undertaken would bear fruit.
Then Sahadeva spoke to Krishna with unrestrained candor. He lamented that the son of Dharma and his brothers were speaking beneath their true stature, and found it astonishing that Krishna listened to every word without objection. He questioned whether it was fitting to go and plead in the assembly of the Kuru dynasty, when Krishna himself had destroyed mighty demons as if in play. He asked whether anyone could truly believe that the wicked-minded Duryodhana would grant half the kingdom, calling such hope a false dream. Sahadeva’s approach was sincere and unmasked by hypocrisy, for he laid bare the truth of his mind, even at the cost of criticizing his own brothers. To him, the willingness of men of such high caliber as Dharmaraja to accept compromise was deeply troubling, and he feared that friends and kinsmen would reproach them for such softness toward cruel oppressors.
He declared that their attitude was far removed from practical wisdom, for to ask a share from ill-gotten wealth was the most inferior of expectations. He reminded Krishna that the Pandavas had thoroughly discussed the righteous path, and that if the Kauravas were to offer something like alms, such an alliance would never endure. In his view, war alone was the most fitting solution. He confessed that he did not know how to speak in honeyed words and urged Krishna to convey his resolve in the court of Dhritarashtra: that if required, they would even accept exile and concealment once more and take half the kingdom thereafter, but if that too were denied, then let them meet death in battle. He warned that clever diplomacy would not deceive him and insisted that Krishna should speak words sharp enough to pierce the mind of Duryodhana.
Though Bhima, Arjuna, and Nakula could not openly reject the opinion of Dharmaraja, they veiled their inner thoughts in courteous restraint. Outwardly, the Pandavas appeared united in a single resolve, yet as Sahadeva had revealed, the fire within them was alive, longing for an outlet beneath the surface.
Satyaki was greatly pleased by Sahadeva’s words and declared that he had spoken rightly. He said there was no use in teaching morality to a wicked assembly ruled by Duryodhana, and that such an approach would only diminish their honor. The warriors, already eager and resolute, were bound by a single aim, and from every angle of reflection, war appeared to be the most suitable course. The words of Sahadeva and Satyaki filled the hall with vigor and strength, and many proclaimed that Sahadeva had spoken well and that Satyaki had voiced their own thoughts. They condemned other speeches as hypocritical and deceptive, declaring that it was unwise to go and beg before enemies, wrong to discourage war, and shameful to endure insult while sparing the offenders from humiliation.
As this fervent discussion arose, the hall resounded with tumult and victory cries that seemed to touch the sky. Krishna observed all this with quiet intelligence and felt that these two had made his task easier by stirring the forces toward the stern path ahead.
Draupadi, however, grew angry and disillusioned at the words of the son of Dharma, and her distress deepened when Bhima and Arjuna supported his view. With a choked voice, she addressed Krishna, reminding him of the atrocities committed by the Kauravas and of how they had driven the Pandavas into the forests. Now, she said, they had sent Sanjaya with words of consolation, and such empty gestures overjoyed Dharmaraja. Would Duryodhana ever grant even five towns of his own accord? She warned that he would only devise further deceptions to torment them. Though Dharmaraja might endure insult out of affection for kinship, if the Pandavas accepted an alliance without a rightful share, the whole world would mock them as unwise, cowardly, inefficient, and shameless.
She questioned why they should diminish their honorable standing and argued that any pact would benefit the Kauravas far more than the sons of Kunti. She urged them to judge rightly and pursue their objectives through the proper royal path. She asserted that Duryodhana had not the slightest fear and would never heed Krishna’s moral counsel, but would instead display his excessive pride. The signs of war, she said, were already surfacing in the assembly of the Kuru king, and she demanded to know whether the Pandavas would prepare for the battlefield or once again retreat to the forests. Her words ridiculed their soft and conciliatory message to enemies, and her frustration poured forth in sharp, provocative speech.
Known to all for her keen intelligence and penetrating insight, she finally said that Dharmaraja and his brothers must decide what was fitting without lowering their stature and forge whatever course was appropriate with the Kauravas. Her fiery mind was inflamed by the humiliation she had endured in the assembly of Dhritarashtra. Though all were wounded beyond measure, they expressed their views to Krishna with the unspoken resolve that the final outcome would be war. Krishna, attentive and composed, wished to hear still more from Draupadi, believing that her words might yet serve as guidance to the sons of Dharma.
