Indeed, the people of Mathura spoke among themselves, marveling at Rama and Krishna, recognizing in them a great portion of Vishnu himself—the source of all beings—who had descended to earth for the certain purpose of relieving the world’s burden. As these praises and descriptions filled the air, at that very moment, Devaki’s heart swelled with emotion; her breast, moist with motherly affection, throbbed with joy. Vasudeva, having at last beheld the radiant faces of his sons, was overwhelmed with happiness. It was as if the weight of old age had been lifted from him, and youth returned to his limbs. Within the royal inner chambers, the women gazed at Krishna and Balarama with wide, unblinking eyes, entranced by their beauty, while the ladies of the city could not turn their gaze away. “Friends, look at Krishna’s face!” they exclaimed to one another. “See his eyes, deep and reddish, adorned with drops of sweat from the struggle with the elephant. His face is like a blooming autumn lotus, glistening with dew, standing above all. Let our eyes be fulfilled in this very birth by beholding him.” Others pointed out, “Behold, O beautiful one, the great splendor of the boy marked with the Srivatsa! See his chest, the destroyer of foes, and his powerful arms.” Another called out, “Why do you not see Balabhadra? His form is white as milk, the moon, and lotus stalks. He stands here now, adorned in blue garments.” The excitement grew. “See Balabhadra playing with Mustika and Chanura, and look at Hari’s smile!” they said. “Friends, look—Hari is approaching Chanura for wrestling. There is no hesitation in him! Are the elders truly permitting this?” Some worried aloud, “How can Hari, whose body is still tender and just entering youth, be matched against this great demon, whose form is hard as thunder? These two brothers, so graceful and youthful, are facing the fierce demon wrestlers led by Chanura. This is a great injustice among those who judge wrestling matches—how can they allow a contest between a child and a mighty man?” Śrī Parāśara continued: As the people spoke thus, the earth seemed to tremble as the blessed Hari, his belt fastened, leapt into the assembly, ready for battle. Balabhadra, too, struck the ground as he moved, leaping gracefully, so that it seemed a wonder the earth did not crack beneath him. Then Krishna, of immeasurable might, engaged Chanura in combat, while the skilled demon wrestler Mustika faced Balabhadra. Hari and Chanura fought fiercely, hurling and striking with fists like thunderbolts, employing all the arts of wrestling—kicks, pushes, and grappling. Though weaponless, their battle was intense and dreadful, a display of strength and vitality before the festival assembly. As long as Chanura fought with Hari, the cowherds and townspeople watched in breathless suspense, awaiting the outcome. Krishna, the very embodiment of the universe, fought playfully, yet with such vigor that, out of fatigue and anger, he shook his lion-like mane. Observing the ebb and flow of strength between Chanura and Krishna, Kaṃsa, filled with wrath, ordered the musicians to stop their instruments. At that very moment, as the earthly drums and cymbals fell silent, celestial instruments resounded in the sky, and the hidden gods called out joyfully, “Victory to Govinda! Slay the demon Chanura, O Keśava!” After tormenting Chanura for a long while, Madhusūdana, intent on ending him, seized the demon and began to whirl him around. He spun Chanura a hundred times and dashed him to the ground; the demon’s life had already departed in the air. Struck down with such force, Chanura’s body shattered into a hundred pieces, and the earth was stained with a great pool of blood. At that time, mighty Baladeva fought with Mustika just as Krishna had with Chanura. With a powerful fist, he struck Mustika on the head and chest, then with his knee, and finally threw him down, crushing him as his life ebbed away. Krishna then turned to the wrestler king Tośalaka, striking him down with his left fist and bringing him to the ground. With Chanura and Mustika defeated, and Tośalaka slain, the remaining wrestlers fled in terror. Victorious, Krishna and Saṃkarṣaṇa joyfully leapt into the arena, seizing cowherds of their own age and celebrating together. But Kaṃsa, his eyes blazing with anger, shouted to his guards, “Drive out these two cowherds and the crowds from this assembly by force! Seize Nanda with iron chains, and bind Vasudeva with a punishment fit for the unaged! Restrain the cows of these cowherds who are with Krishna, and take all their wealth!” As Kaṃsa raged and issued his commands, Madhusūdana laughed aloud. In a flash, he leapt onto the platform, seized Kaṃsa, and dragged him down. Grasping his hair, so that Kaṃsa’s crown fell to the ground, Krishna threw him down and fell upon him. Struck by the mighty bearer of the world, Kaṃsa, son of Ugrasena, lost his life at Krishna’s hands. Then Madhusūdana, seizing Kaṃsa by the hair, dragged his body into the midst of the arena. Such was the force of Krishna’s blow and the dragging that Kaṃsa’s body resembled a mighty river surging with speed, lifeless and defeated before all.