Dhritarashtra, the aged king, spoke to Sanjaya with a heart weighed down by sorrow. He recalled the dreadful tidings that had come to him during the war. When he learned that Shakuni, the master of deceit and the very root of the quarrel, had been slain in battle by Sahadeva, he felt any hope for victory slip away. When he heard that his son Duryodhana, exhausted and alone, had entered the lake, immobilizing its waters, stripped of chariot and weapon, Dhritarashtra’s hope vanished further. He remembered the moment when Duryodhana, unable to endure his fate, attacked the Pandavas as they stood with Vasudeva by the lake. Even then, hope failed him. And when the news reached him that in the mace duel, as Duryodhana moved in wondrous circles, he was slain by Krishna’s stratagem—a blow that was false—Dhritarashtra could not hope for victory. The king’s despair deepened when he learned that the Panchalas and the sons of Draupadi were slain in their sleep by Ashvatthama and others, and Bhimasena performed a terrible but glorious deed. Then, Dhritarashtra knew victory was lost. When he heard that Ashvatthama, pursued by Bhimasena, unleashed the supreme weapon in anger and destroyed the unborn child, hope deserted him entirely. He remembered hearing that Arjuna, uttering words of peace, neutralized the Brahmashira weapon with another, and Ashvatthama surrendered his precious jewel. Even then, there was no hope. When he learned that the son of Drona, with mighty weapons, sought to destroy Uttara’s unborn child, and that Hari, Krishna himself, vowed to restore life, Dhritarashtra’s heart sank further. Vyasa and Krishna cursed the son of Drona with mutual imprecations, and Dhritarashtra, knowing all this, grieved, bereft of sons and grandsons. He lamented Gandhari’s fate, deprived of her children and grandchildren, and pitied the daughters-in-law, bereft of fathers and brothers. The Pandavas had accomplished a most difficult task, regaining the kingdom without rivals. He reflected on the horror of it all: only ten survived the war—three from his side and seven from the Pandavas. In that terrible battle of the Kshatriyas, eighteen Akshauhinis had been destroyed. A vast darkness overwhelmed his mind, as if delusion had seized him; he could not regain his senses, and his mind was greatly disturbed. Having spoken thus, Dhritarashtra, lamenting deeply in his sorrow, fainted. When he regained consciousness, he addressed Sanjaya, saying, “In this state, I wish to give up my life without delay; I see not the slightest benefit in preserving it.” Seeing the king so distressed, lamenting and sighing like a serpent, repeatedly losing consciousness, Gāvalgaṇa spoke words of wisdom. He reminded Dhritarashtra of what Vyasa and the wise Narada had said: in the great royal lineages adorned with virtues, were born those skilled in divine weapons, possessing the brilliance of Indra, who conquered the earth by righteousness and performed sacrifices with abundant gifts. These kings attained fame in the world, then passed under the sway of time: Shaibya, the great chariot-warrior; the heroic Sṛnjaya; Bahlika; Damana; the king of Chedi; Sharyati; the unconquered Nala; Vishvamitra, destroyer of foes; the mighty Ambarisha; Marutta; Manu; Ikshvaku; Gaya; Bharata; Rama, son of Dasharatha; Shashabindu; Bhagiratha; the illustrious Kritavirya; Janamejaya; Yayati, of virtuous deeds, invited by the gods, who performed many Soma sacrifices. Narada once spoke of these kings to Shveta, tormented by grief for his sons. And before them, there were other kings, even more powerful—great chariot-warriors, noble in spirit, endowed with every virtue: Puru, Kuru, Yadu, Shura, Vishvagashva of great splendor, Anuha, Yuvanashva, Kakutstha, the valiant Raghu, Vijaya, Vitihotra, Anga, Bhava, Shveta, Brihadguru, Ushinara, Shataratha, Kanka, Duliduha, Druma, Dambhodbhava, Parovena, Sagara, Samkriti, Nimi, Ajeya, Parashu, Pundra, Shambhu, Devavriddha, Anagha, Devahvaya, Supratima, Supratika, Brihadratha, Mahotsaha, Vinita-atma, Sukratu, Naishadha, Nala, Satyavrata, Shantabhaya, Sumitra, Subala the mighty, Janujangha, Anaranya, Arka, Priyabhrit, Shucivrata, Balabandhu, Niramarda, Ketushringa, Brihadbala, Dhrishtaketu, Brihatketu, Diptaketu, Niramaya, Avikshi, Chapala, Dhurta, Kritabandhu, Dridhesudhi, Mahapurana-sambhavya, Pratyanga, Paraha, Shruti, and many others by the hundreds and thousands, even by the millions. All these wise and mighty kings, abandoning vast enjoyments, met their end—greater even than your sons. Their deeds were divine: valor, renunciation, greatness, faith, truth, purity, compassion, and straightforwardness. Their stories are recounted by the learned and the best of poets in ancient tales; yet even those endowed with all virtues met their end. But your sons, of wicked nature, scorched by anger, greedy, and given to evil conduct—you should not grieve for them. You are learned, intelligent, and esteemed by the wise. Those whose understanding follows the scriptures, O Bharata, do not become deluded. You know well both restraint and favor, O king; you should not show excessive indulgence in protecting your sons. What must be, will be. You should not grieve for it. Who can turn back destiny by human effort?