The gardens, lying without
the town, the fountains, lakes, flower and fruit-trees were now
destroyed by the advancing host, and all the pleasant resting-places lay
in ruins.
The Mallas, mounting on the city towers, beheld the great supports of
life destroyed; they then prepared their warlike engines to crush the
foe without: balistas and catapults and "flying torches," to hurl
against the advancing host. Then the seven kings entrenched themselves
around the city, each army host filled with increasing courage; their
wings of battle shining in array as the sun's seven beams of glory
shine; the heavy drums rolling as the thunder, the warlike breath rising
as the full cloud mist. The Mallas, greatly incensed, opening the gates
command the fray to begin; the aged men and women whose hearts had trust
in Buddha's law, with deep concern breathed forth their vow, "Oh! may
the victory be a bloodless one!" Those who had friends used mutual
exhortations not to encourage in themselves a desire for strife.
And now the warriors, clad in armor, grasping their spears and
brandishing their swords 'midst the confused noise and heavy drums
advanced. But ere the contest had begun, there was a certain Brahman
whose name was Drona, celebrated for penetration, honored for modesty
and lowliness, whose loving heart took pleasure in religion. This one
addressed those kings and said: "Regarding the unequalled strength of
yonder city, one man alone would be enough for its defence; how much
less when with determined heart they are united, can you subdue it! In
the beginning mutual strife produced destruction, how now can it result
in glory or renown? The clash of swords and bloody onset done, 'tis
certain one must perish! and therefore whilst you aim to vanquish those,
both sides will suffer in the fray.
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