There appeared before them a wondrous figure: his matted locks crowned with the crescent moon, serpent earrings adorning his ears, and eyes gleaming brilliantly from his broad forehead. In his many hands he carried a trident, a skull, a drum, a deer, an axe, and a bow—each a sign of his divine power. The dust of his own breath settled upon his form, and his upper garment was none other than the hide of an elephant. His lower garment was a tiger skin, and in this awe-inspiring form, he was beheld by the assembled gods. Brahmā, the lotus-born creator, was utterly bewildered, unable to comprehend the mystery before him. Yet Maheśvara, with a gracious and delighted gaze, looked upon Mādhava, the great Viṣṇu. He spoke, recalling the authority both Brahmā and Viṣṇu held at the dawn of creation. “Having tested my greatness,” he said, “Hari has become awakened. When I was mocked, you, Brahmā, desired to have five faces. This is now the third time you have spoken out of turn—how can this be endured? And when this one, adorned with a ketaka blossom as his crest, bore false witness—” Thus cursing them, Giriśa, the Lord of Mountains, then addressed Viṣṇu with affection. “Indeed, you are born from my own body; you are especially endowed with the quality of sattva. Therefore, at no time shall there be any loss of devotion towards me from you.” Out of compassion, the three-eyed Lord showed his favor to the devotee of the egoless Hari. Viṣṇu then spoke with deep reverence: “Except through fear, your grace is not easily obtained. Your words are not uttered by yourself, and your sovereignty cannot be assailed. Who is Viṣṇu? Who am I? Who are these guardians of the directions, Indra and the others? You alone are the Lord, O husband of Pārvatī; we and all these others are but your cattle. You are the embodiment of the twenty-six principles and pervade everything on all sides. Indeed, you are the god who appeared as a hunter, accompanied by the Sārameyas, as is told in the ancient stories. At Dakṣa’s sacrifice, it was Virabhadra who acted by your command. In your form as the fire of time, you burn up all the cosmic eggs at the end of creation. When Jalandhara committed offense, it was you who pierced him with your trident. If you had not held the Kālakūṭa poison in your throat during the churning of the ocean, who could have borne it? Formerly, in the Devadāru forest, you subdued the sages who were devoted only to ritual action. If you had not trampled us underfoot, we would have fallen into terrible delusion. If you had not revealed the form of Ardhanārīśvara, the Lord who is half woman, the balance of creation would not have been known. By you, O Śambhu, the proud one with conquering arms was restrained. Hari himself filled the skull of the mendicant with his own blood. If you had not taught compassion, all weapons and missiles would have been unleashed. If you had not assumed the forms of Narasiṁha and Sharabha, the great sages would not have survived. You became the boatman in the ocean of the cosmic cycle, taking the forms of the Fish and the Tortoise to save creation. With one of your own thousand lotus eyes, you performed worship. Yet again, Dhūrjaṭi considered himself the creator of the universe. He instructed the twice-born in the equal string and in the ways of worship. For one who remembers me as the guru—whether awake, during creation, or dissolution—here, in this very place, whatever favor I have granted to you both shall remain. And for those who dwell within this region, within three yojanas of this spot, my grace shall ever be present.