Deprived of the sight of the king and her beloved friends, the golden-eyed lady, her heart heavy, moved swiftly and entered the great river. She had come to understand the fate that awaited him, O lord of the people, and thus, as I have heard, she acted according to her own will, independent in her grief. In her solitude, she wondered, "For what purpose have you come here, into this wild forest, empty of people and teeming with dangerous beasts?" Her words reached the ears of a sage, who, angered by the sculptors’ form, pronounced a curse: "Since he was not united with her as a husband, let him become a deer dwelling among the branches." Having performed her evening worship, she honored Śaṅkara, the great Lord. He spoke: "Let the beautiful-browed, lovely-toothed woman, yearning for her husband, come forth." In that sacred place, she worshipped the mighty Hāṭakeśvara. Then, it was foretold that the daughter of the demon Kandaramālin would come, and likewise Vedavatī, the auspicious daughter of Parjanya. "At Hāṭaka, O Mahādeva, you shall attain union," the prophecy declared. Without delay, she journeyed to the holy site of the seven Godāvarī rivers. There, devoted to purity, she lived on fruits and roots, sitting in deep meditation. Longing for her beloved, she recited a single verse from the great legend. She prayed, "Whoever, by his own strength, removes the sorrow of the deer-eyed lady, thinking of the river Payoṣṇī, revered by sages, and her wide, beautiful eyes…" As she remembered Suratha, the hero, a great span of time passed. Driven by fate, he fell from the lofty peak of Meru down to the earth. O beautiful one, Śākveya resided upon this foremost mountain, and many years slipped by in the forest’s embrace. At last, having found her, he approached the renowned Devavatī. The foremost of monkeys saw the child and took him gently in his hand. Upon seeing a cave, the monkey, filled with rage, raised his sword and rushed forward. In this way, together with the charming-limbed one, he journeyed to Himāchala. Not far away, there was a dense hermitage, now abandoned by sages. She bowed in reverence in the Kālindī river, while the Dānava watched from afar. The mighty one then departed to Pātāla, his own abode, but was brought to the virtuous land called Śivīti. Desiring to go further, the mighty one sought the place where Sulocanā had been left. Wishing to depart, the monkey and his gladdening daughter set out together. Yet, reflecting on his efforts, he lamented, "All my labors have been in vain, arising from my immersion in water." Stricken by fear, she plunged into the Hiraṇvatī river. Overwhelmed by sorrow and grief, he journeyed to Mount Añjana, where he dwelled for many years. She, meanwhile, was brought to the highly sacred land of Kośala, a place filled with the virtuous. Her body became covered with tender sprouts, like the Lord adorned with matted hair.