At the appointed hour, signaled by the call of the cuckoo and aligned with the Pushya constellation and the city, Maya instructed the Daityas to act without fear. He had determined this time himself, and he urged them to be vigilant: if anyone in the city tried to gather a group together at that moment, let him be destroyed by a single, powerful arrow from a god. Maya reminded them to hold fast to their lives, their strength, and their enmity with the gods, and to protect the city at all costs. He exhorted them to turn aside, with all their might, the single, fearsome chariot of Maheshvara, so that Shiva could not release his arrow. If they managed to defend Tripura in this way, the gods would be powerless and forced to wait for the Pushya conjunction. Hearing Maya's words, the Daityas dwelling in Tripura roared repeatedly like lions, addressing Maya, who was as clever as Maya himself. They declared their resolve: with effort, they would do as he had instructed, ensuring that Rudra could not release his arrow in the city. Eager for battle, the sons of Diti spoke with delight, their hair standing on end, vowing to slay Rudra that very day. They proclaimed that either Tripura would remain established in the sky for an age—eternal and unshakable—or the threefold path of Narayana would come to pass, and there would be no more Danavas. They would not abandon dharma, as Maya had engaged them in it; and they insisted that men would not see a world without gods or without Daityas. Thus, after conferring together, the delighted lords of the city, enemies of the gods, rejoiced at dusk and took up the duties of love’s spies. Again and again, the great jewel—the moon—wandered to the eastern peak, dispelling the darkness, and the blessed moon expanded in the sky. The moon, born from Atri’s eye, shone in the heavens, illuminating the worlds and pouring out the nectar of moonlight, just as a swan adorned with lotuses sits in a vast lake, or a great lion rests upon a peak of lapis lazuli, or a broad pearl necklace lies upon Vishnu’s chest. As the cool-rayed moon rose and filled the city with light, the Asuras at dusk made their homes and themselves charming. On the streets, royal roads, palaces, and houses, lamps glowed with the color of champaka flowers, lit with little oil. In their monasteries, oil lamps were kindled; their houses, full of wealth and made entirely of gems, shone with lamps like planets at the moon’s rising. Bathed in moonlight and bright with inner lamps, the darkness in Tripura was consumed, like a family beset by calamities. In that city, at the youthful twilight, as the moon laughed with its bright beams, the desire-driven Daityas lingered in their homes with their beloved women. Those who had once been pierced by the five arrows of the Bull-bannered god were now struck by the god with the fish-banner; among the foremost Asuras, their women, heated with passion, became flushed. The demon women engaged in playful chatter, lutes resounded, and cuckoos sang intoxicated tones, while Madana, armed with bow and arrows, churned their hearts. Swiftly dispelling the darkness of night, the moon spread his net of moonlight across the world, meeting his beloved Rohiṇī in the sky and establishing his sovereignty with his radiance. In that city, a noble woman sat at her beloved’s feet, adorning her cheek with a charming beauty mark, thus embellishing her own face. Seeing her reflection in a round mirror, she softly recited, “This is my radiant face,” and, recalling her lover’s caresses, she found pleasure in that very mood. Other young women, their bodies thrilled and hair standing on end from passion, overcome by intoxication and love, hastened eagerly to their lovers, just as night rushes to its end at sunrise. One, deeply pierced by delight, drank in her beloved; another, having long sought her lover, was now pleased; yet another, pleased by his sweet words, was fully content. With eyes marked by collyrium and adorned with sandalwood from the cow’s head, the best of Asura women shone with enchanting beauty, like golden pitchers filled with nectar. With wounded lips, stained with fresh blood, the Daityas, enamored of their beloveds, delighted in the music of strings in their palaces, though in the women’s chatter, they became indifferent again. At times, sweet songs arose—a treasure created by the arrows of Kāma. In the pleasure gardens, delightful music was performed, skillfully brought forth by the women. As the singing continued, some refined the melody, some pleased their beloved there, some awakened their beloved, and, rousing them again and again, brought them joy. When the sun had set in Tripura, the sound of anklets and girdles, tightly bound and adorned with fresh flowers, filled the air, mingling with the calls of cuckoos. Some women, embraced by their lovers, with hair standing on end, their lovely tears budding like fresh shoots watered by new rain, resembled the earth newly moistened. In the splendid palaces, adorned by the moon’s rays, the noble women, with their sweet-sounding ornaments, resounded greatly, equal to Madana in passion. Exhausted by drinking, one woman, longing for her beloved, said, “Why do you smell my cheek so much? Climb onto my broad, full, and high hips, adorned with a golden girdle.” On the streets illuminated by the rising moon, and on the broad royal roads, the Daitya women, moving in groups, shone like stars at dusk around the moon. Amidst bursts of laughter and the waving of fly-whisks, others, swaying from intoxication, moved with playful smiles; the girdle, with its subtle sound, spoke out. It was the turn of the beautiful women adorned with unfading garlands, who were joyful; their voices, refined as polished metal, were heard, and elsewhere, the sounds of swans echoed in the ponds. The girdle with its ornaments, together with the fragrance of their bodies, and the moods inspired by that fragrance, broke the beloved abodes of the demon women, which were dear to the arrows of Kama. Clad in colorful garments, with loosened hair, swaying gracefully, the demon women shone, adorned with beautiful attire and ornaments, like the moon among the stars. Because of their swaying, with loosened threads and fallen girdles, scattered jewels, the ground beneath the swings appeared splendid, made diverse by those ornaments, just as the moon’s side is adorned with varied features.