The Great Epic of the Bhārata dynasty 3.253.19

3.253.19

purā tuṣāgnāviva hūyate haviḥ purā śmaśāne sragivāpavidhyate |
purā ca somo'dhvarago'valihyate śunā yathā viprajane pramohite |
mahatyaraṇye mṛgayāṃ caritvā purā śṛgālo nalinīṃ vigāhate || 19 ||

[paragraph continues] Who could that fool be that would carry away that priceless jewel belonging to the mighty and ever-victorious sons of Pandu, those grinders of foes, and which is dear unto them as their own lives? I don't know who the person could be that would think of carrying away that princess who hath such powerful protectors and who is even like a walking embodiment of the hearts of the sons of Pandu? Piercing whose breasts will terrible shafts stick to the ground to-day? Do not weep for her, O timid girl, for know thou that Krishna will come back this very day, and the sons of Pritha, having slain their foes, will again be united with Yagnaseni!' Thus addressed by him, Dhatreyika, wiping her beautiful face, replied unto Indrasena the charioteer, saying, 'Disregarding the five Indra-like sons of Pandu, Jayadratha hath carried away Krishna by force. The track pursued by him hath not yet disappeared, for the broken branches of trees have not yet faded. Therefore, turn your cars and follow her quickly, for the princess cannot have gone far by this time! Ye warriors possessed of the prowess of Indra, putting on your costly bows of handsome make, and taking up your costly bows and quivers, speed ye in pursuit of her, lest overpowered by threats or violence and losing her sense and the colour of her cheeks, she yields herself up to an undeserving wight, even as one poureth forth, from the sacrificial ladle, the sanctified oblation on a heap of ashes. O, see that the clarified butter is not poured into an unigniting fire of paddy chaff; that a garland of flowers is not thrown away in a cemetery. O, take care that the Soma juice of a sacrifice is not licked up by a dog through the carelessness of the officiating priests! O, let not the lily be rudely torn by a jackal roaming for its prey in the impenetrable forest. O, let no inferior wight touch with his lips the bright and beautiful face of your wife, fair as the beams of the moon and adorned with the finest nose and the handsomest eyes, like a dog licking clarified butter kept in the sacrificial pot! Do ye speed in this track and let not time steal a march on you.'