Note 4 — Chapter I

There is a mountain celebrated under the name of Himavat, haunted by Kinnaras, Gandharvas, and Vidyádharas, a very monarch of mighty hills, whose glory has attained such an eminence among mountains that Bhavání the mother of the three worlds deigned to become his daughter; the northernmost summit thereof is a great peak named Kailása, which towers many thousand yojanas in the air,4 and as it were, laughs forth with its snowy gleams this boast—“Mount Mandara5 did not become white as mortar even when the ocean was churned with it, but I have become such without an effort.” There dwells Maheśvara the beloved of Párvatí, the chief of things animate and inanimate, attended upon by Gaṇas, Vidyádharas and Siddhas. In the upstanding yellow tufts of his matted hair, the new moon enjoys the delight of touching the eastern mountain yellow in the evening twilight. When he drove his trident into the heart of Andhaka, the king of the Asuras, though he was only one, the dart which that monarch had infixed in the heart of the three worlds was, strange to say, extracted. The image of his toe-nails being reflected in the crest-jewels of the gods and Asuras made them seem as if they had been presented with half moons by his favour.6 Once on a time that lord, the husband of Párvatí, was gratified with praises by his wife, having gained confidence as she sat in secret with him; the moon-crested one attentive to her praise and delighted, placed her on his lap, and said, “What can I do to please thee?” Then the daughter of the mountain spake—“My lord, if thou art satisfied with me, then tell me some delightful story that is quite new.” And Śiva said to her, “What can there be in the world, my beloved, present, past, or future that thou dost not know?” Then that goddess, beloved of Śiva, importuned him eagerly because she was proud in soul on account of his affection.