He is incapable of earning religious merit, and is like a shudra. He who feels shame pleases the gods, the Pitris, and even himself, and by this he attains liberation, which is indeed the highest goal of all the righteous.' 'You have seen all this in me with your own eyes, O slayer of Madhu. You know how, deprived of our kingdom, we have lived through these years. We cannot lawfully renounce this prosperity that was ours. Our first effort shall be such, O Madhava, that we and the Kauravas, united in peace, may calmly enjoy our prosperity. Otherwise, having slain the worst of the Kauravas, we shall recover these provinces for ourselves — though victory won through bloodshed, even of an enemy so close to us, is the worst of all cruel deeds, O Krishna. We have many kinsmen, and also many respected elders, who have taken one side or the other. To slay them would be exceedingly sinful. What good, then, can there be in battle? Alas, such sinful practices are the duties of the kshatriya order. Whatever act may be sinful or virtuous, any occupation other than the profession of a warrior is reprehensible for us. Each follows his own particular virtue. O Krishna, Kali is ever present on the battlefield; it is true that force is employed, governed by policy; yet success and defeat do not depend on the will of the combatants — one who knows no glory may slay a hero, and one who is himself no hero may slay a renowned one. Neither side may achieve success, and both sides may be defeated. Yet if one flees, he loses both his life and his glory. Still, under any circumstance, war is no light blow. But as for the man who is struck down, O Hrishikesha, it is all the same — death; yet his loss, O Krishna, is no less than that of the one who wins the victory. He himself may not be slain, but his enemies will slay at least someone dear to him, or some others, and thus a man, O king, deprived of his strength and not seeing his sons and brothers before him, becomes indifferent, O Krishna, even to life itself. After slaying his enemies, remorse, O Janardana, takes hold of his heart.