As the assembly watched, Bhima could not help but laugh at Duryodhana’s predicament. The women, too, joined in, as did many of the other assembled kings. Though King Yudhishthira tried to restrain their mirth out of courtesy, Krishna himself approved their laughter, understanding the deeper significance of the moment. Duryodhana, humiliated, his face lowered in shame and his heart burning with anger, left the hall in silence and made his way toward Gajaha. A cry of “Alas!” rose from the virtuous, distressed by the turn of events, and Yudhishthira—Ajatasatru—was troubled in his mind. But Krishna, the Blessed Lord, said nothing, for he desired to lighten the earth’s burden and simply watched the scene, his gaze wandering. O King, thus I have recounted to you what you asked: the wickedness of Suyodhana—Duryodhana—at the great Rajasuya sacrifice. Thus ends the seventy-fifth chapter, “The Humbling of Duryodhana’s Pride,” in the tenth canto, second half, of the glorious Bhagavata Purana, scripture of the supreme swans. Now, O King, hear another wondrous act of Krishna. Listen as I recount how the playful, bodyless Lord destroyed the mighty Shalva, lord of Saubha. Shalva, a close friend of Shishupala, had come to Rukmini’s wedding, where he was defeated in battle by the Yadus, as were Jarasandha and many others. Stung by this defeat, Shalva made a public vow before all the assembled kings: “I will rid the earth of the Yadavas—witness my valor!” Spurred by this reckless oath, he worshipped the Lord, master of all beings, by swallowing a handful of dust—a sign of his desperate resolve. After a year of penance, the gracious Lord Shiva, husband of Uma, who is easily pleased, appeared before Shalva and offered him a boon. Shalva asked for a vehicle so terrifying to the Vrishnis that it could go wherever he willed and could not be destroyed by gods, demons, humans, Gandharvas, serpents, or Rakshasas. “So be it,” said Girisha, and as he commanded, Maya the architect, conqueror of enemy cities, built an iron city called Saubha and gave it to Shalva. Armed with this formidable, wish-fulfilling, and impregnable vehicle, Shalva set out for Dvaraka, his heart burning with enmity toward the Vrishnis. O best of the Bharatas, Shalva besieged the city with a great army, laying waste to its suburbs and gardens. He struck at the city’s gates and towers, palaces, balconies, pleasure grounds, and lofty mansions with relentless showers of weapons. Stones, trees, thunderbolts, venomous serpents, and gravel rained down, while a fierce whirlwind arose, filling all directions with dust. Krishna’s city was thus harassed by Saubha, finding no peace—just as the earth once suffered under the attack of Tripura. Witnessing his people’s suffering, the glorious and heroic Pradyumna, Krishna’s son, mounted his chariot and reassured them, saying, “Do not fear!” Satyaki, Charudeshna, Samba, Akrura with his younger brother, Hardikya, Bhanuvinda, Gada, Shuka, Sarana, and many other great archers and commanders of chariot divisions followed, fully armed and leading chariots, elephants, horses, and foot soldiers. Then began a tumultuous and hair-raising battle between Shalva’s forces and the Yadus, reminiscent of the ancient wars between gods and demons. Pradyumna, son of Rukmini, wielded divine weapons and in a moment destroyed all the magical illusions conjured by the lord of Saubha, just as the sun dispels the darkness of night. With twenty-five arrows adorned with golden shafts and iron tips, Pradyumna pierced the commander of Shalva’s army. He struck Shalva himself with a hundred arrows, his soldiers with single arrows, their leaders with ten arrows each, and their vehicles with three arrows each. Witnessing this wondrous and mighty feat, all the soldiers—friend and foe alike—honored Pradyumna. Yet, that creation of Maya, woven of illusion, appeared in many forms and in one, sometimes visible, sometimes not, and was impossible for the enemy to comprehend. At times, Saubha was seen on the ground, at times in the sky, sometimes atop mountain peaks, and sometimes in the water—spinning about in its dire state like a wheel of firebrands. Wherever Shalva, his Saubha, and his army were perceived, the chiefs of the Sātvatas loosed their arrows. Afflicted by these missiles, blazing like fire and the sun and as deadly as venomous serpents, Shalva’s forces became bewildered. Yet, though assailed by torrents of weapons from Shalva’s army, the heroic Vrishnis did not abandon the field, each intent on conquering both worlds. Dyuman, a minister of Shalva, who had previously overpowered Pradyumna, now approached with a heavy mace and struck him, roaring mightily. Pradyumna, his chest shattered by the blow, was carried away from the battlefield by his charioteer, the righteous son of Daruka. After a moment, Pradyumna regained consciousness and said to his charioteer, “Ah, how improper it is, O charioteer, that you have withdrawn me from the battle! Never has it been heard that one born in the Yadu line has left the battlefield—except for a charioteer whose mind is unmanly and who has incurred sin. What shall I say when I approach my fathers, Rama and Kesava, having retreated from battle? When questioned there, what answer will I give? Surely, my brothers’ wives will laugh and say, ‘How, how did your cowardice, O hero, become known to others in battle?’” The charioteer replied, “O lord, knowing righteousness, I did this; a charioteer must protect a warrior in distress, just as a warrior protects his charioteer. Knowing this, my lord, I withdrew you when you were struck and had fallen unconscious, attacked by the enemy’s mace.” Thus ends the seventy-sixth chapter, “The Battle with Shalva,” in the tenth book, second half, of the Srimad Bhagavata Mahapurana, scripture for the paramahamsas. Now, hear how the Lord himself destroyed Shalva and his Saubha. After purifying himself with water, Pradyumna took up his bow and said to his charioteer, “Take me to the side of Dyuman, the hero.” Smiling, Rukmini’s son struck down Dyuman, who was attacking his own troops, with eight iron arrows.