While Krishna spoke with Kichaka about this matter, half a day became for her, O king, like a month. Kichaka went home, overcome with great joy; the fool did not understand that death had come to him in the form of Sairandhri. Especially occupied with perfumes, ornaments, and garlands, he hurriedly adorned himself, blinded by desire. While he did this and thought only of the wide-eyed one, time became long for him. Trusting in the condition set, Kichaka, blinded by desire, did not notice how the day passed, thinking only of the meeting. Then the lovely Draupadi went to Bhima in the kitchen, approached her husband the Kaurava, and said: 'I, of lovely hair, have arranged a meeting with Kichaka in the dancing hall, just as you said, destroyer of foes. He will come alone at night to the empty dancing hall, mighty-armed one. Kill this Kichaka. Go to the dancing hall and make lifeless this son of a suta, Kichaka, intoxicated with pride, O Kaunteya. Out of pride he scorns the gandharvas; you, best of strikers, tear him out as an elephant tears out a reed. Wipe away my tears, I who am overcome with grief, O Bharata; do good for yourself and preserve the honor of our line.'