The rajahs then descended from their gorgeous thrones and gathered around Draupadi as the bright gods gather around Párvati, the mountain bride of Shiva. Their hearts were filled with love for the maiden and with hate for one another. Rivals frowned upon rivals. Those who had been close friends became of a sudden angry enemies because that Draupadi was so beautiful. Krishna and Balarama alone remained aloof; calmly and self-restrained they stood apart, while rajah opposed rajah like to angry elephants. Each of the love-sick monarchs gazed upon the mighty bow and upon the whirling target on high, and for a time no man sought to lift the bow lest he should be unable to bend it and then be put to shame. At length a rajah, more bold than the others, picked it up and tried his strength without avail; another followed and another, but failed to string it. Soon many rajahs strained their arms in vain, and some fell upon the ground and groaned, while the laughter of the people pealed around the barriers.... The gods had assembled in mid-air and looked down with steadfast eyes. At length proud Karna strode forward; he took the bow and bent it and fixed the bowstring. Then he seized an arrow. Drupada and his son were alarmed, fearing he might succeed and claim the bride. Suddenly Draupadi intervened, for she would not have the son of a charioteer for her lord. She said, speaking loudly: “I am a king's daughter, and will not wed with the base-born....” Karna smiled bitterly, his face aflame. He cast down the bow and walked away, gazing towards the sun. He said: “O sun! be my witness that I cast aside the bow, not because I am unable to hit the mark, but because Draupadi scorns me.” Others sought to perform the feat, but in vain, and many rajahs feared to make attempt lest they should compel the laughter of the people. A buzz of merry voices arose from beyond the barriers. Meanwhile the Pandava brethren, disguised as Brahmans, looked on with the others. Then suddenly silence fell upon everyone, for Arjuna advanced from the priestly band to lift the bow. The Brahmans applauded him, shaking their deerskins. Said the rajahs: “Can a weakly Brahman, who is a mere stripling, accomplish a feat which is beyond the strength of mighty warriors.” Others said: “The Brahman knoweth best his own skill. He would not go forward if he were not confident of success.” An aged priest endeavoured to restrain Arjuna, lest he should by his failure bring ridicule upon the Brahmans; but the hero would not be thwarted. He strode forward like to a stately elephant and bared his broad shoulders and ample chest. He was nimble as a lion, and calm and self-possessed. Ere he lifted the bow, he walked round it; then he addressed a prayer to the gods.... He stood up unmoved and serene as a mountain peak, and he bent the bow and fixed an arrow in it....