After the gods had sung their praises, Devakī bore within her womb the lotus-eyed one, the very cause of the world’s protection. In the early dawn, for the awakening of all creation, the great soul Acyuta appeared before Devakī. The day of his birth brought extraordinary joy and delight to every direction, much like moonlight brings happiness to the world. Those who were virtuous felt a deeper contentment; fierce winds calmed, and even wild animals became gentle upon the birth of Janārdana. Rivers played melodious sounds, Gandharva lords sang, and groups of Apsarases danced in celebration. The gods, both in the heavens and on earth, showered flowers, and peaceful fires blazed brightly as Janārdana entered the world. At midnight, when Janārdana, the support of all, was born, clouds thundered softly and rained blossoms upon the earth. Vasudeva beheld him, radiant as a blue lotus petal in bloom, with four arms and the mark of Śrīvatsa upon his chest, and offered his praises. With worshipful words and a delighted mind, Vasudeva, wise but fearful of Kamsa, addressed the divine child. He said, “O lord of gods, bearer of conch, discus, and mace, withdraw this divine form by your grace. Today, Kamsa intends to kill me, knowing you have descended and are here in my house. You, whose infinite form encompasses all, who bears the worlds within your body—may you, manifesting as a child by your own power, be gracious. Withdraw this four-armed form, O soul of all, so that Kamsa, the wicked son of Diti, does not know of your descent. What you promised me before, when I desired a son, has today been fulfilled, O goddess; I am born from your womb.” Having spoken thus, the Blessed One fell silent. Vasudeva then took the child during the night and went outside. The guards, whose horses were enchanted by Yogamaya’s sleep, did not notice Anakadundubhi as he left Mathura. As fierce rains poured from the clouds that night, Shesha followed Anakadundubhi, sheltering him with his hood. Vasudeva, carrying Vishnu, entered the deep Yamuna, whose swirling currents reached up to his knees, and crossed safely. On the riverbank, after paying Kamsa’s tax, he saw Nanda and the other cowherds who had come from Mathura. At that time, Yashoda too, overcome by Yogamaya’s sleep, gave birth to a girl while everyone was under the spell. Vasudeva placed the boy down and took the girl, quickly going to Yashoda’s bed that very night. When Yashoda awoke, she saw her newborn son, dark as a blue lotus petal, and was filled with great joy. Vasudeva, taking the girl, returned to his own house and placed her on Devakī’s bed, just as before. Then, hearing the sound of the child, the guards suddenly awoke and reported Devakī’s delivery to Kamsa. Kamsa hurried in and seized the girl, but as Devakī, her throat choked with emotion, pleaded, “Let her go, let her go,” he was momentarily restrained. He hurled the girl onto a stone slab, but as she was thrown, she remained suspended in the air and assumed a great form, armed and with eight mighty arms. She laughed loudly and, angered, said to Kamsa, “Fool! What will you gain by throwing me? The one who will kill you has already been born. He who was formerly the death of all beings and the gods has now become your death. Consider this well and quickly act for your own good.” Having spoken thus, the goddess departed, adorned with divine weapons, fragrances, and ornaments, praised by the Siddhas as she vanished into the sky before the eyes of the king of the Bhojas. Then Kamsa, his mind agitated, summoned all the great asuras, headed by Pralamba and Keshi, and addressed the foremost among them. “O Pralamba, mighty-armed one! O Keshi! Dhenuka! Putana! Arishta and the rest, and all others—listen to my words. The gods, with evil intent, have tried to kill me many times, and Indra himself has tormented me, but I do not count them as anything. “What can Indra, whose strength is small, accomplish? What can Hari, who wanders alone, achieve—even if he is the slayer of demons and seeks out faults? What can the Adityas or the Vasus, whose power is limited, do? What can the Maruts or any other immortals accomplish, all of whom have been subdued by my arms? Have I not seen the lord of the immortals himself come to battle, only to flee, carrying his arrows on his back and turning away his chest? “When Indra once held back the rain in the land of the Madras, what of it? The clouds, broken apart by the Madras, still released the waters as they wished. Are there any kings on earth, terrifying in the strength of their arms, who have not all submitted to Jarasandha as their superior? Among the immortals, O best of the Daityas, I feel only disdain; they are laughable to me, as are all others among them. “Nevertheless, O lords of the Daityas, I must strive all the more to bring harm to those wicked ones, for they are evil-minded. Therefore, all those who are renowned on earth, and those who perform sacrifices, must be slain completely, for the sake of harming the gods.” Thus, the events unfolded, marking the divine descent and the ominous resolve of Kamsa, setting the stage for the unfolding drama between good and evil.