quarters of the sky. Therefore now, while Śankhachúda is away, I will quickly mount the execution rock. (Does so and, sits down, starting as if enraptured.) Oh, the rapture of its touch! Not so much does Malayavatí delight me, moist with sandal-juice of Malaya, as this rock of execution, which I embrace to the furtherance of my desired object. Or rather—what need of mentioning Malayavatí? Not such joy is attained by one in childhood, lying peacefully in his mother's lap, as by me on the slope of this rock of execution. Here comes Garuda. I must veil myself.
Then enters Garuda.
Garuda.
Here I am, in a moment arrived on the shore side of the Malayan Mount, greedy to devour the Nága. When I saw the moon's disk, I was reminded of the form of Śesha[1] coiled up in a circle through fear. My elder brother[2] joyfully recognised me, when the sun was shaken by the sudden start of his chariot steeds as I passed. My long wings, as I fly, stretch out still longer by reason of the clouds, that hang from them in festoons.
Jímútaváhana (with joy).
Through the merit that I gain to-day, by protecting a Nága at the sacrifice of myself, may I still obtain,
