Having proceeded thus far in the narrative, Shree Shookdeo Jee said to the Raja Pureechit,--O great king! on hearing of the destruction of all his army, and of the sons of Moor, Bhomasoor was at first very thoughtful, and perplexed. On subsequent reflection, he recovered his confidence; and taking several very powerful demons with him, his eyes inflamed with rage, tightening his waist belt, preparing his arrows, talking foolishly, he got ready to fight with Shree Krishnù Jee. Bhomasoor was exceedingly wroth when he saw Shree Krishnù; and, seizing arrows by the handful, began to discharge them. Huri cut them into three pieces. Then Bhomasoor drew a sword, and howled angrily at Krishnù; he sent forth a sound like thunder, exclaiming, “You shall not escape from me now, you villager.” Having spoken these harsh words, Bhomasoor engaged in a fierce encounter. He, O great king! attacked violently with a club; and his blows made as much impression on the body of Shree Krishnù, as a stick of flowers would make on the body of an elephant. He fought with Krishnù with weapons of all kinds, which Huri cut in pieces. Bhomasoor then returned to his house, and brought forth a trident; and prepared for an encounter. Then Sutbhama called out, “When will the lord of the Judoos kill him?” On hearing these words, Krishnù poised his quoit, and killed Bhomasoor by cutting off his head. His head fell, together with the ear-rings and crown. The snake, on which the world rests, trembled when the body fell. There was joy in the three worlds; and the cares and miseries of all were removed. His splendour went into the body of Huri. Gods and wise men raised shouts of victory. They rained down flowers from their chariots, which were assembled together. The gods singing praises to the Vedas, celebrated the exploits of Krishnù. Having recited thus much of the history, Shree Shookdeo, the sage, said,--O great king! on hearing of Bhomasoor’s death, the earth and Bhomasoor’s wife with her son came to Krishnù; and standing in his presence, with joined hands and bended heads, began to say, in a most supplicating manner, “O luminous form of Bruhmù! Beharee, thou friend of thy worshippers, for the sake of holy and virtuous men, thou assumest numberless shapes; your greatness, exploits and delusive power are boundless, who can understand them, and who has power to explain them without your favour? You are the god of all the gods; no one understands your nature.” O great king! having thus spoken, and placed the canopy and ear-rings before Krishnù, the earth again said, “O lord of the poor and sea of compassion! this son of Bhomasoor, Soobhugdunt, has come to you for protection. Take compassion on him, and be pleased to place your soft, lotus-like hand on his head, and grant that he may be free from all dread of you.”