Jaratkaru, the wandering sage, spoke to those assembled, saying, “Among those I have mentioned, whoever possesses a maiden, let them give her to me, who roams in every direction. Whichever maiden, named as mine, is offered to me like alms, and whom I am able to support—let them give me that maiden.” Hearing his words, the serpents devoted to Jaratkaru took the matter to Vasuki, their lord. Upon learning this, Vasuki, the king of serpents, adorned his sister and brought her to the forest where Jaratkaru dwelt. There, Vasuki offered his sister, as if in alms, to the great-souled sage. Yet, Jaratkaru did not accept her. He thought, “She is not to be supported,” and, intent on renunciation and not considering her maintenance, he hesitated to accept her. Then, O descendant of Bhrigu, Jaratkaru asked the maiden’s name and said to Vasuki, “I will not undertake her maintenance.” Vasuki replied, “This maiden, named after you, is my sister, endowed with austerity. I will support your wife; accept her, best of the twice-born. I will protect her with all my power, O treasure of austerity. For your sake, O best of sages, she will be protected by me.” Jaratkaru declared, “I will not support her; this is my vow. Nor should anything unpleasant be done; if it is, I will abandon her.” When Vasuki promised, “I will support my sister,” Jaratkaru agreed and went to the serpent’s abode. There, in the presence of those skilled in mantras, and with proper rites and mantras, the righteous sage, great in austerity and vows, took Vasuki’s sister as his wife. After receiving his wife, he went to the delightful dwelling approved by the lord of serpents, praised by the great sages. A splendid bed was prepared for them, and Jaratkaru dwelled there with his wife. In that abode, Jaratkaru made an agreement with his wife: “You must never do anything displeasing to me, nor ever speak such words. If you do something displeasing, or say such words, I will leave you and your house. Accept this statement I have made.” Deeply distressed, Vasuki’s sister, weighed down by sorrow, responded, “So be it.” She attended to her husband, who was inclined to sorrow, with gentle means and affection, always desiring his favor. At the proper time, having bathed, Vasuki’s sister approached her husband, the great sage, as was fitting. Within her, a pregnancy arose, blazing like fire, endowed with great brilliance, shining with the radiance of Vaiśvānara. Just as the moon waxes in the bright fortnight, so too did the child grow. After some days, the illustrious Jaratkaru rested his head in her lap and slept, exhausted. As the eminent sage slept, the sun set behind the mountain. As the day drew to a close, Vasuki’s sister, fearful of violating duty, reflected anxiously: “Should I do what is right, or awaken my husband, or not? He is sorrowful and righteous—how can I avoid wrongdoing toward him? Anger may arise in one devoted to righteousness, or a lapse in duty; indeed, a lapse in duty is weightier,” she considered. “If I awaken him, he will surely become angry; but if I do not, a lapse in duty will occur, for the twilight rites will be missed.” Resolving thus, Jaratkaru’s serpent wife approached the sage, radiant in austerity, as he lay like fire. Then, speaking gently and sweetly, she said, “Rise, O fortunate one, the sun is setting. Perform the twilight rites, O blessed one, having touched water, steadfast in vows; the time for the fire-offering has come, this beautiful, reddish moment. The twilight is beginning in the western direction, O lord.” Thus addressed, the illustrious Jaratkaru, great in austerity, spoke to his wife, his lips trembling: “You have shown me disrespect, O serpent woman. I will not remain near you; I shall depart as I came. You had no power, O slender-thighed one, to prevent the sun from setting while I slept. It is in my heart to leave at the proper time; nor does anyone wish to dwell where they are disrespected. What then, for one devoted to righteousness, or for me, or for one like me?” Thus addressed by her husband, Jaratkaru’s wife was shaken at heart. In Vasuki’s assembly, she spoke: “O Brāhmaṇa, I awakened you not out of disrespect. I did this so that you, O Brāhmaṇa, would not incur a lapse of righteousness; thus I spoke to you, as instructed by my husband, the great ascetic Jaratkaru.” But the sage, seized by anger and wishing to abandon the serpent-woman, said, “My words are never false; I shall leave you, O serpent-woman. This was the agreement we made with each other before, O gentle one; I have lived happily with you—now, O auspicious one, tell your brother. When I am gone from here, O timid one, let him know that I have departed; and you, when I have left, should not grieve.” Thus addressed, that faultless woman replied then to the sage Jaratkaru, her mind absorbed in anxiety and sorrow.