O King, a quarrel arose between Devayani and Sharmishtha over that matter. Devayani, feeling wronged, rebuked Sharmishtha, saying, “Why do you take my garment, you who are my disciple, O daughter of the Asura? Such conduct, lacking in propriety, will not bode well for you. Your father, whether sitting or lying down, always stands before my father, praising him like a bard, humbly and with deference. You are the daughter of one who begs, praises, and accepts gifts; I am the daughter of one who is praised, who gives, but does not accept. Now beg, now curse, now act with hostility, now grow angry, O beggar! Unarmed, you are agitated against one who is armed; empty-handed, you are disturbed, O supplicant. You will find someone to oppose you, for I do not consider you of any account. If you speak against me from now on, O beggar—” Stung by these harsh words, Sharmishtha saw Devayani standing, clutching her garment in pride. Overcome by anger, Sharmishtha seized Devayani and threw her into a well, then returned to her own city, thinking, “She is dead,” her mind set on evil. Without looking back, consumed by wrath, Sharmishtha entered her home and composed herself, following the ways of the Asuras. It was then that King Yayati, son of Nahusha, arrived at that very spot. His horses and chariot were weary; seeking game and tormented by thirst, he searched the area and discovered a well whose water had dried up. There, to his astonishment, he saw a maiden, radiant like a flame. Beholding this girl of celestial beauty, Yayati approached and questioned her gently. With kind words, the noble king sought to console her. “Who are you, dark-skinned one, with coppery nails and shining jeweled earrings? Why do you sit lost in deep thought, sighing so cleverly? How did you fall into this well, overgrown with grass and creepers?” Devayani replied, “I am the daughter of Shukra, he who with his wisdom revives the Daityas slain by the gods. Surely he does not know what has happened to me. Here is my right hand, O king, with coppery-nailed fingers. Take my hand and lift me out, for I deem you a noble man. I know you to be calm, powerful, and renowned. Therefore, you ought to rescue me, who have fallen into this well.” Moved by her words, Yayati took her by the right hand and lifted her out of the pit, swiftly raising her from the well. The king then said, “Go, noble lady, wherever you wish; you have nothing to fear.” But Devayani, thus addressed, replied, “Take me with you quickly, for you are dear to me. You have taken my hand; therefore, you shall be my husband.” Hearing this, Yayati, born of the Kshatriya line, replied, “O noble lady, you are a Brahmin woman; therefore, union with me is not proper. You are the daughter, O auspicious one, of Kavya, the teacher of all worlds. I am also afraid for this reason, O blessed one; it is not fitting.” But Devayani insisted, “If, O ruler of men, you do not desire me today according to my words, then my father will choose you for me, and thus you shall obtain me. Go now.” Having taken leave of Devayani, the king returned to his city. After Yayati’s departure, Devayani, faultless and sorrowful, wandered and finally stood weeping, leaning against a tree. As she lingered long in that state, her father, the Bhargava Shukra, overcome with affection and worry for his daughter, spoke to her nurse: “Nurse, quickly bring Devayani, who has gone out.” Thus instructed, the nurse hurried out, searching for Devayani step by step. At last, she found her, disheveled, exhausted, and weeping. “What has happened, dear one? Quickly tell me; your father is calling,” the nurse asked. Devayani, tormented by grief, told her nurse all that Sharmishtha had done to her, and spoke to Ghurnika, who stood before her, “Go quickly, Ghurnika, and at once tell my father.” Ghurnika hastened to the mansion of the Asura. Upon seeing Kavya, her mind agitated, she spoke, “Devayani has been harmed in the forest, O wise one—by Sharmishtha, the daughter of Vrishaparvan.” Hearing that his daughter had been wronged by Sharmishtha, Kavya, full of sorrow and haste, went out to seek Devayani in the forest. Finding her there, he embraced his daughter with both arms and, distressed, spoke gently, “All people experience happiness and sorrow through their own actions. I think you have committed some misdeed, for which this retribution has come upon you.” Devayani replied, “What Sharmishtha, the daughter of Vrishaparvan, said to me is true indeed; she spoke rightly—you are the singer among the Daityas. Thus Sharmishtha, daughter of Vrishaparvan, spoke to me with words sharp and harsh, her eyes reddened with anger. While I, the daughter, always praised, begged, and accepted, she said to me—though I was praised and giving, I did not accept. Sharmishtha, daughter of Vrishaparvan, said this to me, her eyes bloodshot with wrath, filled with pride, again and again. If, father, I, the daughter, should appease Sharmishtha, who is praised and accepts, then my friend spoke thus to me.” Thus, the story of Devayani’s wrong at the hands of Sharmishtha, her rescue by King Yayati, and her appeal to her father Shukra unfolded.