There lived for a long time a vulture and an owl on a mountain extending over the banks of a river, resonant with the notes of cuckoos and filled with lions, tigers and various birds, situated in a pleasant forest abounding in trees near the city of Ayodhyā.
And broken down by his own mace, Matta dropped down like a hill, with his teeth and eyes shrivelled up; and he dropped to the earth deprived of strength and life, with his eyes paling. And on that Rākshasa falling, the Rākshasa forces began to fly.
Her grief and exhaustion were removed—sorrow was pacified and her heart was filled with joy. And she with her countenance appeared beautiful like a lunar night beautified by the rays of the Moon.