CHAPTER IISanjaya.Him, filled with such compassion and such grief,With eyes tear-dimmed, despondent, in stern wordsThe Driver, Madhusudan, thus addressed: Krishna.How hath this weakness taken thee? Whence springsThe inglorious trouble, shameful to the brave,Barring the path of virtue? Nay, Arjun!Forbid thyself to feebleness! it marsThy warrior-name! cast off the coward-fit!Wake! Be thyself! Arise, Scourge of thy Foes! Arjuna.How can I, in the battle, shoot with shaftsOn Bhishma, or on Drona-O thou Chief!--Both worshipful, both honourable men? Better to live on beggar's breadWith those we love alive,Than taste their blood in rich feasts spread,And guiltily survive!Ah! were it worse-who knows?--to beVictor or