The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa, Volume 2...

“Bhima said, ‘Speak thou, O slayer of Madhu, in such a strain that there may be peace with the Kurus. Do not threaten them with war. Resenting everything, his wrath always excited, hostile to his own good and arrogant, Duryodhana should not be roughly addressed. Do thou behave towards him with mildness. Duryodhana is by nature sinful of heart like that of a robber, intoxicated with the pride of prosperity, hostile to the Pandavas, without foresight, cruel in speech, always disposed to censure others, of wicked prowess, of wrath not easily to be appeased, not susceptible of being taught, of wicked soul, deceitful in behaviour, capable of giving up his very life rather than break or give up his own opinion. Peace with such a one, O Krishna, is, I suppose, most difficult. Regardless of the words of even his well-wishers, destitute of virtue, loving falsehood, he always acts against the words of his counsellors and wounds their hearts. Like a serpent hid within reeds, he naturally commits sinful acts, depending on his own wicked disposition, and obedient to the impulse of wrath. What army Duryodhana hath, what his conduct is, what his nature, what his might, and what his prowess, are all well-known to thee. Before this, the Kauravas with their son passed their days in cheerfulness, and we also with our friends rejoiced like the younger brother of Indra, with Indra himself.

Alas, by Duryodhana’s wrath, O slayer of Madhu, the Bharatas will all be consumed, even like forests by fire at the end of the dewy seasons, and, O slayer of Madhu, well-known are those eighteen kings that annihilated their kinsmen, friends, and relatives. Even as, when Dharma became extinct, Kali was born in the race of Asuras flourishing with prosperity and blazing with energy, so was born Udavarta among the Haihayas, Janamejaya among the Nepas, Vahula among the Talajanghas, proud Vasu among the Krimis, Ajavindu among the Suviras, Rushardhik among the Surashtras, Arkaja among the Valihas, Dhautamulaka among the Chinas, Hayagriva among the Videhas, Varayu among the Mahaujasas, Vahu among the Sundaras, Pururavas among the Diptakshas, Sahaja among the Chedis and Matsyas, Vrishaddhaja among the Praviras, Dharana among the Chandra-batsyas, Bigahana among the Mukutas and Sama among the Nandivegas. These vile individuals, O Krishna, spring up, at the end of each Yuga, in their respective races, for the destruction of their kinsmen. So hath Duryodhana, the very embodiment of sin and the disgrace of his race, been born, at the end of the Yuga, amongst us the Kurus. Therefore, O thou of fierce prowess, thou shouldst address him slowly and mildly, not in bitter but sweet words fraught with virtue and profit, and discourse fully on the subject so as to attract his heart. All of us, O Krishna, would rather in humiliation follow Duryodhana submissively, but, oh, let not the Bharatas be annihilated.

O Vasudeva, act in such a way that we may rather live as strangers to the Kurus than incurring the sin of bringing about the destruction of the whole race should touch them, O Krishna, let the aged Grandsire and the other counsellors of the Kurus be asked to bring about brotherly feelings between brothers and to pacify the son of Dhritarashtra. Even this is what I say. King Yudhishthira also approveth of this, and Arjuna too is averse to war, for there is great compassion in him.’"

Vaisampayana said, “Hearing these words from Bhima, that were fraught with such mildness and that were, as unexpected as if the hills had lost their weight and fire had become cold, Rama’s younger brother Kesava of Sura’s race and mighty arms, wielding the bow called Saranga, laughed aloud, and as if to stimulate Bhima by his words, like the breeze fanning a fire, addressed him who was then so overwhelmed by the impulse of kindness, saying, ‘At other times, O Bhimasena, thou applaudest war only, desirous of crushing the wicked sons of Dhritarashtra that take delight in the destruction of others. O chastiser of foes, thou dost not sleep but wakest the whole night, sitting up face downwards. Thou often utterest frightful exclamation of wrath, indicative of the storm within thy heart. Inflamed with the fire of thy own fury, thou sighest, O Bhima with an unquiet heart, like a flame of fire mixed with smoke. Withdrawing from company thou liest down breathing hot sighs, like a weak man pressed down by a heavy load. They, who do not know the cause regard thee as insane. As an elephant breaking into fragments uprooted trees lying on the ground grunteth in rage while trampling them under his feet, so thou also, O Bhima, runnest on, breathing deep sighs and shaking the earth under thy tread. Here in the region thou takest no delight in company but passest thy time in privacy. Night or day, nothing pleases thee so much as seclusion.

Sitting apart thou sometimes laughest aloud all on a sudden, and sometimes placing thy head between thy two knees, thou continuest in that posture for a long time with closed eyes. At the other times, O Bhima, contracting thy brows frequently and biting thy lips, thou starest fiercely before thee. All this is indicative of wrath. At one time, thou hadst, in the midst of thy brothers, grasped the mace, uttering this oath, “As the sun is seen rising in the east displaying his radiance, and as he truly setteth in the west journeying around the Meru, so do I swear that I will certainly slay insolent Duryodhana with this mace of mine, and this oath of mine will never be untrue.” How then doth that same heart of thine, O chastiser of foes, now follow the counsels of peace? Alas, when fear entereth thy heart, O Bhima, it is certain that the hearts of all who desire war are upset when war becometh actually imminent. Asleep or awake, thou beholdest, O son of Pritha, inauspicious omens. Perhaps, it is this for which thou desirest peace. Alas, like a eunuch, thou dost not display any sign indicative of manliness in thee. Thou art overwhelmed by panic, and it is for this that thy heart is upset. Thy heart trembleth, thy mind is overwhelmed by despair, thy thighs tremble, and it is for this that thou desirest peace. The hearts of mortals, O Partha, are surely as inconstant as the pods of the Salmali seed exposed to the force of the wind. This frame of thy mind is as strange as articulate speech in kine.

Indeed, the hearts of thy brothers are about to sink in an ocean of despair,—like swimmers in the sea without a raft to rescue them. That thou, O Bhimasena, shouldst utter words so unexpected of thee is as strange as the shifting of a hill. Recollecting thy own deeds and the race also in which thou art born, arise, O Bharata, yield not, to grief, O hero, and be firm. Such langour, O repressor of foes, is not worthy of thee, for a Kshatriya never enjoyeth that which he doth not acquire through prowess.’"