Seeing the uproar the women of the city were all distressed and joined in cursing the princes. The very moment arrived the sage ParaÜurŒma, a very sun to the lotus-like race of Bh¾gu, led by the news of the breaking of the bow. At his very sight the kings all cowered down even as a quail would shrink beneath the swoop of a hawk. A coat of ashes looked most charming on his fair body; his broad forehead was adorned with a Tripu˜˛ra (as peculiar mark consisting of three horizontal lines, sacred to Ýiva). Having matted locks on the head, his handsome moonlike face was a bit reddened with anger; with knitted brows and eyes inflamed with passion, his natural look gave one the impression that he was enraged. He had well-built shoulders like those of a bull and a broad chest and long arms; he was adorned with a beautiful sacred thread, rosary and deerskin. With an anchorite’s covering about his loins and a pair of quivers fastened by his side, he held a bow and arrows in his hands and an axe upon his fair shoulder. (1—4)