After speaking encouraging words, Akrura urged his swift horses onward, and as the evening shadows lengthened, he brought the chariot to the outskirts of Mathura. When the city came into view, Akrura turned to Krishna and Rama and said, “By my strength, I have brought you both here alone by chariot.” He added with humility, “It is only right that you go to the house of Vasudeva, not mine, for it is because of you that the venerable Vasudeva has been cast out by Kamsa.” Having said this, Akrura entered the city of Mathura, while Krishna and Rama set out along the royal road. As they walked, strong and radiant as young elephants, their presence filled the hearts of Mathura’s people with joy. Men and women alike gazed at them with delight, marveling at their playful ease and youthful grace. As they wandered through the city, Krishna and Rama, their faces glowing with beauty, came upon a washerman and a dyer. They asked these men for beautiful garments. But the washerman, who served Kamsa, was filled with pride and astonishment. He answered harshly, raising his voice and uttering many rude words to Rama and Kesava. At this, Krishna struck the washerman with his palm, felling the wicked man to the ground. Having slain him, Krishna and Rama dressed themselves joyfully in yellow and blue garments and made their way to the house of the garland-maker. The garland-maker, eyes wide with amazement, wondered to himself, “Who are these two? Where have they come from?” Seeing them clad in yellow and dark-blue garments, exceedingly charming, he thought at once that these must be gods descended to earth. When Krishna and Rama, their faces blooming like lotuses, requested flowers, the garland-maker humbly touched the earth with his head, supporting himself with his hands. With reverence, he said, “The gracious lords have come to my house; I am blessed—I shall prosper.” His face alight with joy, he freely offered them beautiful and fragrant flowers, presenting them again and again with devotion and bowing repeatedly to these best of men. Pleased by his devotion, Krishna granted boons to the garland-maker: “May fortune never leave you, O blessed one, as long as you remain devoted to me. You will never lose your strength or wealth, and for as long as you live, your lineage will not perish. After enjoying great pleasures, by my grace, you will remember me at the end and reach the divine world. Let your mind be set on righteousness, O blessed one! Your descendants will have long life, and no affliction or fault will ever befall those born in your lineage, for as long as the sun endures.” Having spoken these words, Krishna, accompanied by Balarama, departed from the garland-maker’s house, honored by him as they went on their way. As they continued along the royal road, Krishna saw Kubja approaching, carrying vessels of fragrant ointment, radiant in the bloom of her youth. Krishna spoke sweetly to her, “For whom are you carrying this ointment, O lotus-eyed one? Tell me truly.” Kubja, filled with affection for Hari and overcome by the sight of him, answered with sweetness, “Dear one, do you not know? I am called Trivakra, appointed by Kamsa himself to prepare ointments. No other ointment pleases Kamsa as mine does, and I am the chief recipient of his favor and wealth.” Krishna replied, “This ointment is fragrant and worthy, O beautiful-faced one. Give us ointment suitable for our bodies.” Hearing this, Kubja respectfully offered them the ointment, which she had prepared with care. Thus adorned, Krishna and Rama, their bodies gleaming with the dust of devotion, shone forth—one dark and one fair, like two clouds in the sky, bows in hand. Then Krishna, skilled in the art of healing, gently lifted Kubja’s chin with his fingertips, and with his feet, he straightened her form. In that moment, her crookedness vanished, and she became beautiful, the best among women. Overflowing with love and playful charm, Kubja caught Govinda by his garment and said, “Come to my house.” Krishna, glancing at Rama and laughing, replied, “I will come to your house,” and dismissed her, laughing joyfully as he looked to his brother. Clad in blue and yellow garments, their bodies dusted by devotion and adorned with splendid garlands, Krishna and Rama proceeded to the bow-hall. When the guards questioned them about the precious bow within, Krishna swiftly seized it and began to string it. Applying his strength, he broke the bow in two, and its tremendous sound echoed throughout Mathura. The guards, alarmed by the breaking of the bow, challenged the brothers. Krishna and Rama, undaunted, slew the guards and departed from the bow-hall. Meanwhile, Kamsa learned of Akrura’s arrival and heard that the great bow had been broken. Troubled, he summoned the wrestlers Chanura and Mushtika and said, “The cowherd boys have come before me; you must kill them in wrestling, for they threaten my life.