All the forces and qualities of existence—both shadowed and radiant—entered the human body. Theft, wrongdoing, and sin took their place within, but so too did truth, sacrifice, great glory, strength, sovereignty, and vigor. Into this same body came prosperity and adversity, the giving and withholding of gifts, and every form of hunger and thirst. Blame and blamelessness settled there, along with the choices to strike or not to strike, faith and generosity, as well as the absence of faith. Knowledge and ignorance, and all that is taught—indeed, the very Veda itself, with its Ṛc, Sāman, and Yajus—entered the body. Joys, delights, pleasures, supreme happiness, laughter, harmlessness, and dancing all found their home within. Speech, babbling, desires, and idle talk—joined and unjoined—filled the person. The in-breath and out-breath, sight and hearing, and the two earths—what is firm and what is the ground—vital air and upward breath, speech and mind, all move together with the body. Blessings and commands, permissions and distinctions, all intentions and resolves entered as well. The urge to steal and the tendency to settle, haste and misery, what is hidden and what is pure, what is gross, rejected, and repulsive—all these took root. Bone became the fuel-stick, and eight kinds of water settled within; semen became the clarified butter, and thus the gods entered the person. Waters, deities, and sovereign order, together with Brahman, entered the body; Brahman himself entered, and Prajapati presided over all within. The sun became the eye, the wind became the breath, and the gods entrusted the person’s other self to Agni. Therefore, the one who knows sees this person as Brahman, for in him all deities dwell, just as cows rest within a pen. With its first measure, the self moves everywhere in threefold ways; with one, it goes here, with another, it goes there, and with one, it remains here. Placed in the waters, grown in the mothers, the body is set within; and within it, a shadow—hence it is called ‘shadow.’ Now, all the arms and arrows, the powers of bows, swords, axes, and weapons, and the intent and resolve in the heart—O Arbuda, you possess them all. Reveal these to us for the sight of our enemies, and show forth the mighty ones. Rise up, divine beings, our friends, and let those who are seen and unseen be your protectors—those who are our allies in Arbuda. Rise up, take hold, with both taking and binding; let the armies of the enemies be struck down in Arbuda. Arbuda is the name of the god, and Nyarbudi is the lord; by these two, the midspace and the great earth are encompassed. With these two, and with Indra, I seek victory with my army. Rise up, divine beings, in Arbuda, together with the army; break the armies of the enemies and surround them with enjoyments. Seven noble ones, born in Nyarbuda, observe; with all of them, when the offering is poured, rise with the army. Let the enemies’ wives be made tearful, their ears filled with wailing, their hair disheveled when a man is slain and torn apart in your Arbuda. Dragging the corpse, longing for her son, husband, brother, or kin, let her wail, torn apart in your Arbuda. Let vultures, crows, eagles, hawks, and other birds of prey, jackals and greedy ones, be satisfied, watching the enemies torn apart in your Arbuda. Let every wild beast, fly, and worm be satisfied with the corpse, with the excrement, with the carrion, with what is chewed, with your swelling. Let the vital breaths, inhaled and exhaled, be seized and gathered in the swelling; let the dwellings and settlements depart, watching among the enemies, with your swelling. Shake and scatter the enemies in fear; pierce them in the swelling with wide jaws and strong arms. Let their arms and the deceit in their hearts become confused; let nothing of theirs remain, with your swelling. Let the destroyers run together—the strong, the loud-voiced, the slayers; let the evil, disheveled, weeping women gather over the slain, with your swelling. The dog-like nymphs, the forms, and the swelling; the one who stirs within the vessel, the biting, the one who seeks evil—may you show all these in the swelling to be seen by the enemies, and reveal the mighty ones. The Khaḍūri, the wandering Chankramā, the dwarf-dweller Kharvikā; those mighty ones hidden within, the Gandharvas and Apsarases, the serpents and other beings, the demons—all are there. Those with four fangs, the gnawers, those with swollen testicles, those with bloody mouths, those who are ours and those who are others—shake forth, in the swelling, the enemies and their roots. Let the victorious and the conqueror conquer the enemies, O Indra and Earth. The enemy, overwhelmed and crushed, lies slain in the swelling; let the victorious, flame-tongued, smoke-crested ones come with their army. With that swelling, may Indra strike down the raised enemies again and again; may the lord of power not let me be released among these. Let their hearts leap up, their breath rise, and dryness of mouth follow; let it not befall the friend, but only the enemies. Those who are steadfast, unsteady, who turn away, who are deaf, enveloped in darkness, or who dwell in the bladder—may you show all these in the swelling to be seen by the enemies, and reveal the mighty ones. Let the swelling and the trisandhi pierce our enemies; as you, Indra, slayer of Vṛtra, strike down thousands of enemies, O lord of power. The forest trees, plants, herbs, and grasses, Gandharvas and Apsarases, serpents, gods, blessed ones, and ancestors—may you show all these in the swelling to be seen by the enemies, and reveal the mighty ones. Their lordship is with you, O Maruts, O gods, Āditya, Bṛhaspati; with you, Indra and Agni, Dhātṛ, Mitra, Prajāpati; and with the seers, watching among the enemies, with your swelling.