Kanva, the sage, faithfully performed all the prescribed rituals for the young boy in his care, ensuring everything was done properly and justly. As time passed, the child grew strong and healthy, his teeth gleaming white as ivory and his frame powerful, reminiscent of a lion. Remarkably, he bore the mark of the discus upon his hand and radiated such brilliance that he seemed almost another Vishnu—broad-chested, mighty, and full of vigor. This boy, who appeared as if he were a son of the gods, matured swiftly within the hermitage. Yet, though King Dushyanta remembered him, he did not call the boy to his court, fearing the sage’s displeasure. As the years rolled on, the king refrained from summoning the ascetic; after six years, the boy turned his attention more fully to Kanva’s hermitage. With astonishing strength, the boy protected the hermitage from wild beasts—tigers, lions, boars, wolves, buffaloes, and bears—that troubled the peaceful abode. He struck them down with his feet, seized them with his arms, and bound them to trees all around the hermitage, subduing them effortlessly. He delighted in climbing trees, playing, and running through the forest, which teemed with groups of lions and tigers. When Rakshasas and Pisachas, enemies of the sages, threatened the hermitage, the boy fought them in battle, slaying them with his fists and thereby bringing great satisfaction to the sages. One day, a mighty son of Diti, enraged by the destruction of his kin, approached the boy with murderous intent. Undaunted, the boy laughed, seized the demon with his arms, and bound him tightly, crushing him with his strength. Unable to break free, the demon cried out in terror, blood streaming from his mouth at the gates of the hermitage. The fearful sound sent herds of deer, lions, and other animals fleeing, and even the hermitage dwellers were overcome with fright. The demon managed to escape by dragging himself on his knees and collapsing, leaving all witnesses astonished at the boy’s extraordinary deeds. The Daityas and Rakshasas, now terrified, no longer dared approach Kanva’s hermitage. Witnessing these superhuman feats, Kanva and the other dwellers gathered together and gave the boy a fitting name: “Let him be called Sarvadamana, for he subdues all things.” Thus, the boy became known as Sarvadamana. Sarvadamana was endowed with valor, strength, and might, and he never turned away those who were suffering—not the queen, nor the son. Shakuntala, his mother, meanwhile, was pale like the moon, her body weakened by worry. Her hair hung loose, she was emaciated, sorrowful, and dressed in soiled garments, overwhelmed by her concerns. Seeing Shakuntala in such a state, Kanva reflected deeply upon the scriptures, the Vedas, and the twelve years that had passed. Observing the boy’s superhuman deeds, the sage understood that the time had come for Sarvadamana’s investiture as crown prince. Kanva then addressed his daughter, speaking gently to her: “Hear my words, O gentle one, my daughter, O pure-smiling one. Among women devoted to their husbands, the foremost duty is service to the husband—by mind, speech, and bodily actions. With my prior permission, you have observed this vow; by this conduct, you will attain blessed worlds. When this is fulfilled, you will obtain distinguished prosperity in the world of men. Therefore, gentle one, today you must go to the presence of the descendant of Puru. Since Dushyanta does not come himself, thinking the time has passed, O pure-smiling one, go and propitiate King Dushyanta, wishing for his welfare. Seeing Dushyanta established as crown prince, you will find joy; for the gods, elders, Kshatriyas—and especially for husbands—union is beneficial. Therefore, daughter, you must go with your son, wishing for my pleasure. You must not give any reply; you are bound by my command.” Having spoken thus to his daughter, Kanva turned to his grandson, embracing the Paurava with his arms and affectionately smelling his head. He said, “The king, famed as Dushyanta, is born of the lunar dynasty; this pure-vowed lady is his chief queen and your mother. Desiring to go to her husband, this slender-waisted lady will go with you; when you arrive and salute the king, you will obtain the crown prince’s position. He is your father, the lord of kings; you must be obedient to him. Rule the kingdom inherited from your father and grandfather by your own nature. When you are established in your own sovereignty, O descendant of Puru, do not forget me.” Sarvadamana bowed to the sage’s feet and spoke with deep reverence: “You are my father, O sage among Brahmins, you are my mother, you are also my refuge. O great ascetic, except for you, I consider no one else my father; serving you is meritorious in this world and the next. Let Shakuntala, desiring a husband, go as she wishes; I will remain at your feet, devoted to your service. I will no longer play with wild animals as before; I will always follow your instructions and diligently pursue my studies.” Having spoken these words, he embraced Kanva’s feet as the sage stood before him. Hearing this, Shakuntala began to weep, her heart filled with both the affection of a father and the joy and sorrow of a son. Hearing her cry in distress, the daughter of Dushyanta spoke. The revered one comforted her, saying, “Why do you weep, Shakuntala? If you wish to please your husband, you must depart at dawn.” Thus, with Kanva’s blessing and guidance, Shakuntala and her son Sarvadamana prepared to leave the hermitage and seek their rightful place in the world.