The Colas c11.31

c11.31

'The male elephants, not led out to bathe with the female herd in the large tanks (outside the fort), nor fed with balls of rice mixed with ghee, chafe at the posts to which they are chained, heave long sighs, and with their trunks rolling on the ground, trumpet loudly like thunder. Children cry for want of milk, the women plait their hair without flowers, the mansions of the city resound with the cries of people wailing for want of water. It is not possible to hold out any more here, thou, master of fleet steeds! If thou wouldst be kind, open the gates (to the enemy) saying, "This is yours;" if thou wouldst be heroic, open the gates and lead thy soldiers out to victory; to be neither the one nor the other, to close the strong gates of the fort, and to shut yourself up in a corner behind the high walls, this, when one thinks of it, is shameful indeed!'