It was for that reason, O son, that thou
wert urged by me to do battle. O puissant king, O son, do not suspect
that thou hast committed any, even the least, fault, by accepting his
challenge. He is a Rishi, of a mighty soul, eternal and indestructible. O
dear son, Sakra himself is incapable of vanquishing him in battle. This
celestial gem has been brought by me, O king. It always revives the
snakes as often as they die. O puissant king, do thou place this gem on
the breast of thy sire. Thou shalt then see the son of Pandu revived.'
Thus addressed, the prince who had committed no sin, moved by affection
for his sire, then placed that gem on the breast of Pritha's son of
immeasurable energy. After the gem had been placed on his breast; the
heroic and puissant Jishnu became revived. Opening his red eyes he rose
up like one who had slept long. Beholding his sire, the high-souled hero
of great energy, restored to consciousness and quite at his ease,
Vabhruvahana worshipped him with reverence. When that tiger among men, O
puissant one, awoke from the slumber of death with every auspicious sign
of life, the chastiser of Paka rained down celestial flowers.
Kettle-drums struck by nobody, produced their music deep as the roar of
the cloud. A loud uproar was heard in the welkin consisting of the
words--Excellent, Excellent! The mighty-armed Dhananjaya, rising up and
well-comforted, embraced Vabhruvahana and smelled his head.
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