Thus, when Brahmā, the Lord of creation, addressed him with reverence, the God of gods—Śiva—looked tenderly upon the face of the Goddess and offered her a gentle, knowing smile. Out of deep affection for Brahmā, whom he regarded as a son, the Lord graciously restored to the gods, beginning with Brahmā himself, all their original limbs and forms, as they were before. Likewise, he bestowed the same restoration upon the divine mothers, the goddesses who had first been punished, returning them to their former glory. However, for Dakṣa, the blessed one, Brahmā, the grandsire, in keeping with the gravity of Dakṣa’s offense, gave him the face of an old goat. When Dakṣa regained awareness and realized he was still alive, he was seized by fear. With trembling hands joined in supplication, he lamented much and praised Śambhu, seeking forgiveness. He cried, “Victory to you, O Lord, Lord of the universe, bestower of grace upon the worlds! Have mercy, O Great Lord, and forgive my offense. You alone are the creator, sustainer, and destroyer of the worlds; now I understand that you are truly the Lord of Viṣṇu and all others. By you alone is all this extended, pervaded, and created, never destroyed. Indeed, none—neither Acyuta nor any other—are your superiors, O Lord.” Thus, agitated and fearful, Dakṣa, overwhelmed by his wrongdoing, spoke incoherently in his distress. Moved by Brahmā’s desire to appease his son, the Lord then granted Dakṣa the imperishable leadership of the Ganas. All present praised Śankara, the Lord of Girijā, with words full of humility and devotion: “Victory to you, Śankara, Lord of the gods, great master, protector of the distressed! Show mercy, O Maheśāna, and truly forgive our offense. O guardian and lord of sacrifices, destroyer and preserver of sacrifice, show mercy, O Lord of the cremation ground, and forgive us. O God of gods, supreme Lord, nourisher of the devotees’ lives, dispenser of punishment to the wicked—master, show mercy; salutations to you. You are the remover of pride from the wicked and those ignorant of you, and especially the protector of the virtuous whose minds are devoted to you. Truly, your deeds are wondrous, and by your compassion, all offenses are to be forgiven; your greatness lies in your love for the afflicted.” Thus praised by Brahmā and the other immortals, the great Lord, ocean of compassion and master devoted to his devotees, was pleased. He bestowed his favor upon Brahmā and the other gods, and Śankara, ever the friend of the afflicted, gladly granted blessings to humankind as well. Then, the supremely compassionate Supreme Lord, his smile removing all their fears, spoke gently to the gods who had sought his refuge. “Whatever has happened here, done by the gods as if compelled by fate, is already forgotten by us. Seekers of refuge, all is forgiven. Therefore, let the matter be settled—without shame or conflict, go now, joyfully, to the city of the gods, led by Hari, Virinchi, and Indra.” Having thus addressed the gods, the Lord of gods, who had destroyed Dakṣa’s sacrifice, stood there with Girijā and his attendants—and then, in a moment, vanished from the sky. The gods, their distress gone and their great, auspicious deeds recounted, immediately and joyfully departed as they wished, many-faced and led by Maghavan (Indra). But where did Hara go, accompanied by the goddess and his attendants, after vanishing from sight? Where did he dwell, and what did he do there? The illustrious Mandara, best of mountains—adorned with wondrous caves and beloved by the Lord of gods—became his abode for austerities. There, upon Mandara’s summit, Śiva performed great austerities, and after a long time, the mountain itself was blessed with the happiness that comes from touching the dust of his lotus feet. Even if one had a thousand mouths, the beauty of that mountain could not be fully described—not even in hundreds of millions of years. Even if it were possible, I am not able to recount its splendor, for the beauty of other mountains is ordinary and comparable, but Mandara’s is beyond compare. Yet this much can be said: this beautiful mountain is so abundant and glorious that it is truly fit to be the dwelling of the Lord. For this very reason, desiring to please the goddess, the Lord made this exceedingly lovely mountain his inner palace. Its foothills, adorned with pure stones and trees, surpass the entire world due to the constant presence of Śiva and Pārvatī. The daily use of Mandara’s waters for bathing and drinking by the divine parents of the world has made the mountain supremely sacred, spreading its merit everywhere. The gentle, cool touch of its clear waterfall waters, as if anointed with clarified butter, crowns Mandara as the king of mountains. At night, the lofty peak, crowned by the moon, shines resplendent, as if beneath the royal umbrella of mountain sovereignty. The mountain is fanned by the playful hands of maidens, as if with the royal fans of sovereignty over all mountains. At dawn, when the sun rises, the mountain, adorned with jewels, seems to gaze upon its own beauty in a mirror. The chirping of birds, the waving of creepers lifted by the wind, the constant shower of loosened flowers, and the hanging tender leaves all add to its splendor. The mountain king is worshipped, as if by ascetic trees with tangled creeper-hair, offering victorious blessings together. With peaks facing downward, upward, and sideways, Mandara appears to tumble into the underworld or leap up from the earth. Surrounded on all sides, it seems to wander through the sky, as if beholding the whole world and dancing without ceasing. Thus, the Lord, the goddess, and their attendants made Mandara their sacred abode, and there the mountain shone with their divine presence, surpassing all others in beauty and sanctity.