Mbh 5.72.6c

Confidence in one’s own prowess troubleth the core of one’s heart like an incurable disease. Without either renouncing that at once, or death, there can be no peace. It is true, O slayer of Madhu, that exterminating the foe by the very roots, may lead to good result in the shape of great prosperity, yet such an act is most cruel. The peace that may be brought about by our renouncing the kingdom is hardly different from death, which is implied by the loss of kingdom, in consequence of the design of the enemy and the utter ruin of ourselves. We do not wish to give up the kingdom, nor do we wish to see the extinction of our race. Under these circumstances, therefore, the peace that is obtained through even humiliation is the best. When these that strive for peace by all means without of course wishing for war, find conciliation fail, war becomes inevitable, and then is the time for the display of prowess. Indeed, when conciliation fails, frightful results follow. The learned have noticed all this in a canine contest. First, there comes the wagging of tails, then the bark, then the bark in reply, then the circumambulation, then the showing of teeth, then repeated roars, and then at last the fight. In such a contest, O Krishna, the dog that is stronger, vanquishing his antagonist, taketh the latter’s meat. The same is exactly the case with men. There is no difference whatever. They that are powerful should be indifferent to avoid disputes with the weak who always bow down. The father, the king, and he that is venerable in years, always deserve regard. Dhritarashtra, therefore, O Janardana, is worthy of our respect and worship. But, O Madhava, Dhritarashtra’s affection for his son is great. Obedient to his son, he will reject our submission. What dost thou, O Krishna, think best at this juncture? How may we, O Madhava, preserve both our interest and virtue? Whom also, besides thee, O slayer of Madhu, and foremost of men, shall we consult in this difficult affair?