The noble king, having come upon a maiden in distress, approached her with gentle, comforting words. With kindness, he inquired, “Who are you, dark-skinned one with coppery nails and gleaming jeweled earrings?” Perceiving her deep sorrow, he continued, “You have been lost in thought for so long, sighing so cleverly—what troubles you? How did you come to fall into this well, hidden by grass and creepers?” The maiden, gathering herself, answered, “He who, by his wisdom, restores life even to the Daityas slain by the gods—he is my father. I am the daughter of Shukra, and 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 see you are of noble lineage. I know you to be calm, powerful, and renowned. Therefore, rescue me, who has fallen into this well.” Moved by her words, the king took her right hand and lifted her swiftly from the pit. Having raised her from the well, the ruler of men spoke with reassurance, “Go, noble lady, wherever you wish; you have nothing to fear.” But Devayani, thus addressed, replied earnestly, “Take me with you quickly, for you are dear to me. You have taken my hand, and therefore you shall be my husband.” The king, born of the Kshatriya line, answered with respect, “O noble lady, you are a Brahmin woman; thus, union with me is not proper. You are the daughter of Kavya, teacher of all worlds. I am also afraid, O blessed one, and so it is not fitting.” Devayani responded, “If, O ruler of men, you do not desire me according to my words today, then my father will choose you for me, and thus you shall obtain me. Go now.” Having taken leave of the lovely-hipped lady, King Yayati returned to his city. When Nahusha’s son had departed, the faultless Devayani wandered elsewhere, and, overcome with grief, stood weeping as she leaned against a tree. As she lingered there, her father, the Bhargava, remembered his daughter and, filled with affection, said to her nurse, “Nurse, quickly bring Devayani, who has gone out.” Thus instructed, the nurse hurried to find her, searching everywhere, step by step. At last, she saw Devayani standing, distressed, exhausted, and weeping. “What has happened, dear one? Quickly tell me, your father is calling,” the nurse said. Devayani, tormented by grief, told her nurse, Ghurnika, that Sharmishtha had wronged her. “Go quickly, Ghurnika, and at once tell my father.” Ghurnika hastened to the mansion of the Asura and, her mind troubled, spoke to Kavya, “Devayani has been harmed in the forest, O wise one, by Sharmishtha, daughter of Vrishaparvan.” Hearing that his daughter had been harmed by Sharmishtha, Kavya, filled with sorrow, went out in haste to find Devayani in the forest. Upon finding her, 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 recounted her suffering: “What Sharmishtha, daughter of Vrishaparvan, said to me is true; she spoke rightly—you are the singer among the Daityas. Thus, with sharp and harsh words, her eyes reddened with anger, she spoke to me. While I, the daughter, always praised, begged, and accepted, she said to me—though I was praised and giving, I did not accept. Sharmishtha, her eyes bloodshot with wrath and filled with pride, said this to me again and again. If, father, I, the daughter, should appease Sharmishtha, who is praised and accepts, then my friend spoke thus to me. Even after being spoken to in this way, she harshly subdued me in the lonely forest, threw me into a well, and after casting me in, went home.” Devayani continued, “You are not the daughter who praises, nor do you accept when begged; you are the daughter of Devayani, not one who is praised. Vrishaparvan himself knows this, as do Shakra and King Nahusha: my power is divine, beyond thought, undivided, and lordly. I know the science of life, eternal and certain in this world, by which, O lotus-eyed one, a dead being is revived. A virtuous person, after boasting of their own qualities, feels remorse; therefore, I am unable to speak, though you know my strength.” Kavya soothed her, “Therefore, arise, let us go home, delight of your lineage; forgive, O wide-eyed one, for forgiveness is the essence of the good. Whatever exists everywhere, whether on earth or in heaven, I am always the lord of that, as declared by the self-born, pleased with me. I release water for the welfare of beings; I nourish all plants—this I tell you truly.” Thus, when she was overcome by despair and pressed by anger, her father comforted her with gentle and sweet words. He said, “Know, Devayani, that the man who always endures the harsh words of others conquers all this.