And to sorrowing fathers and mothers that clay long lost sons were restored, and even the dead were brought to life and were seen with the eye and felt with the heart and encircled with the arms of those whose hearts were empty for them. And thus the Lord with benign smile brought to all the gifts of life and love, and none were there in all that land who felt not the power thereof. CHAPTER XXXII. When the hour for the festivities of the Bow began, spectators innumerable filled the galleries and platforms of the amphitheatre. By every tongue the praise of Krishna's beauty was sung, and all awaited with eager desire the arrival of the brothers Rāma and Krishna. In the centre of the arena a platform was raised, where Kangsa, the king, and his ministers were enthroned. His eyes were lurid with hate and his heart quaking with fear, for his dreams had been full of evil omens, and he knew that he of all that multitude was out of tune with Nature. For Krishna, the Youth, had scattered flowers of love in that city for all who chose to partake of them, and all hearts had gathered them eagerly. Only he alone had turned from the good and abided by his hate; and he knew, in spite of the wrestlers and the wild elephant, and even the guard that stood ready to slay at his command, that the Youth would conquer, as He ever had, and that he would die by His hands sooner or later. For had it not been writ thus? And again had not every attempt of his to put out the life of the eighth child of Devaki been baffled in marvelous ways? And still the Youth lived and smiled. Surely he was Hari, the Invincible! His hate betrayed him and was hourly leading him into a trap. It charmed him like a subtle snake, while it frightened him like a huge wild beast; yet gladly would he have opened the valve that held his wrath and flooded all with its poison, if by so doing he might have annihilated that glorious Youth who stood ever before him by night and day and smote his cruel heart as with a glowing rod. So all his stolid self-possession was gone as he looked on, when Krishna, the Beautiful, soft as a delicate woman, yet invincible as unconquered strength, walked 'mid the hysterically joyous shouts of the people to where the giant Bow was guarded by warriors bold. A moment, and then He seized the Bow and held it aloft with one hand, the Bow that twelve men of mighty strength alone could handle, and with a twist of His wrist it fell at their feet, broken in twain. The guards rushed forward, as if to strike Him low; but when near Him, they stopped and looked at His glory; they crouched low on their haunches and fell on their faces, unable to move, for the life had gone out of their bodies by the first wave of His hand. But blessed were they; for none died by the hand of Krishna, but by Him was made pure and straightway to the realms of Bliss they were sent.