IN the square of Pandhari a game has been started; all the Vaishnavas have gathered together. With cymbals and sticks they make a sound in concert; they have taken the child of DevakI for their leader. Come, my brothers, let us behold this marvel; why are you engrossed in wordly desires ? Blessed are those who have joined him; there is no pleasure like this in the three worlds! Their conversation is full of joy and delight; they show to one another their fond affection. They are earnestly bent on the Six, the Eighteen, and the Four; they dance and circle in a pure measure. As cymbals of devotion they wear jewels and sandal-wood; their energy is glorious, and skilfully they wind their clothes about them; they proclaim his name with loud cries. Hari, Hara, Brahma and the thirty-three crores of gods meet in the holy Bhima. They all stand PAN DHABI marvelling. Amraoti is abandoned; they cry, “ Glorious is Vaikuntha, but it cannot compare with Pandhari." Tuka's servant says, Be not ■slothful; I call on men and women.