Withdrawing from company, you lie down breathing hot sighs, like a weak man crushed beneath a heavy load. Those who do not know the reason think you mad. Like an elephant that tramples underfoot trees torn up by the roots and lying on the ground, snorting in fury, so do you, O Bhima, rush forward, sighing deeply and making the earth tremble beneath your tread. Here, in this region, you take no pleasure in company but spend your time in solitude. By night or by day nothing delights you so much as solitude. Sitting apart, you sometimes suddenly burst out laughing loudly, and at other times, resting your head between your two knees, you remain long in that posture with your eyes closed. At other times, O Bhima, frequently knitting your brows and biting your lips, you gaze fiercely before you. All this bespeaks anger. Once, among your brothers, you seized your mace and uttered this vow: 'As surely as the sun rises in the east displaying its splendor, and as surely as it indeed sets in the west, journeying around Meru, so do I vow that I shall assuredly slay the insolent Duryodhana with this mace of mine, and this vow of mine shall never prove false.'