The Weapon of Tvaṣṭṛ

The prince set Madālasā on his horse to take her away. The dānavas saw them and shouted: She is being carried off, the jewel of a girl Pātālaketu brought down from heaven! Their army came with Pātālaketu at its head, armed with clubs and swords, maces, tridents and arrows, and showered him with weapons. He laughed and cut their weapons to pieces with his arrows. Then he took up the weapon of Tvaṣṭṛ, the craftsman of the gods, and let it fly, and all the dānavas, Pātālaketu with them, were burned until their bones burst, like the sons of King Sagara when the sage Kapila burned them with his fire.

He rode home with his bride to his father's city and told his father all of it: the fall into Pātāla, Kuṇḍalā, Madālasā, the battle and the burning. Śatrujit rejoiced. You have saved me, he said, and the sages are safe. There are three kinds of sons: one keeps his father's fame, one adds to it, one lessens it. Never be parted from this daughter of the gandharvas. And he sent the two of them to their own house.

They took their delight in the city, in its gardens and forests and on the slopes of the hills, and every morning Madālasā bowed at the feet of her husband's father and mother.