Upon hearing those words, she was overcome with anger and, in her wrath, uttered a curse upon him. Again and again, she called out, “O child, stay, do not go! Where are you going?” Her pleas echoed, but he did not remain. All the gopīs wept, and the gopas too, their hearts deeply distressed by the turn of events. Yet, it was said among them, “He will return in half a moment, once the curse has run its course.” In Goloka, however, half a moment is as long as an entire manvantara. Thus, it was foretold that Śaṃkhacūḍa would return there again, after his destined journey. Then, she instructed him: “Take up my trident and quickly go to Bhārata. Wear my own auspicious armor around your neck. O Brahman, as long as that armor is upon you, no one will be able to harm you.” She spoke of a time to come when the chastity of his wife would be broken, and declared, “I will surely deposit my seed in the womb of his wife. Afterwards, she will abandon her body and become my beloved.” Having received the spear, Hari entered within with joy and swiftness. Nārāyaṇa continued, telling the sage: He then quickly returned to his own abode, to his proper place. On the bank of the river Candrabhāgā, beneath a beautiful and charming banyan tree, he appointed Puṣpadanta, the lord of the Gandharvas, as his messenger, just as he desired. By the command of his lord, Puṣpadanta swiftly set out for that excellent city. O sage, that city was vast—five yojanas wide and twice as long—and protected by seven formidable moats. It was always radiant, adorned with countless jewels that shone like blazing fire. All around, groups of merchants displayed their various goods, and the city was further beautified by countless divine hermitages, each splendidly adorned. Its shape was exceedingly circular, like the full disc of the moon, and it was nearly impossible for enemies to enter, yet easy and pleasant for others. The city boasted twelve magnificent gates, each guarded by vigilant gatekeepers. Hundreds of thousands of mansions, studded with the finest gems, graced its streets. Its doors and vessels sparkled with jewels, and it was perpetually protected on all sides by innumerable Dānavas—handsome, well-dressed, and adorned with all manner of ornaments. At one gate stood a smiling man holding a spear. Puṣpadanta narrated the events to him and, with his permission, passed through. No one hindered the messenger, for he had assumed the proper form for his mission. He proceeded to inform the Lord of all that had transpired in battle. Upon entering, he beheld Śaṃkhacūḍa, exceedingly charming in appearance. The lord was adorned with a splendid staff, set with jewels and topped with precious gems. A servant shaded him with a beautiful golden parasol. Handsomely dressed and delightful to behold, Śaṃkhacūḍa wore dazzling jeweled ornaments. Around him stood the lords of the Daityas—thirty million in number—all splendidly attired. Witnessing this magnificent scene, Puṣpadanta was filled with amazement. He then addressed Śaṃkhacūḍa, saying, “I will speak to you the words spoken by Śaṃkara himself; listen well: ‘Give the kingdom and authority to the gods at this very moment.