Vyasa, the illustrious sage, agreed to Satyavati’s request to continue the Kuru lineage and departed. In due course, Kausalya gave birth to a son, but the child was blind from birth. After this, Satyavati, intent on securing heirs for the family, once again spoke to her daughter-in-law and summoned the sage, just as she had done before. She called Ambalika and instructed her, for the sake of the dynasty, to unite with her son, Vyasa. Ambalika, virtuous but anxious, sat upon her bed, her mind troubled, wondering who would come to her. She waited, restraining herself, in great apprehension. When the sage approached her as before, Ambalika, upon seeing him, went forward, but her fear was so great that her complexion lost its color and she became pale and dispirited. Vyasa, noticing her pallor and alarm, spoke gently: “Because you have turned pale upon seeing me in this form, your son will also be pale, and this will be his name.” Having said this, the venerable sage departed. Satyavati, seeing him leave, anxiously asked her son if all would be well. Vyasa explained to his mother that the child would indeed be brave and famous throughout the world, but because of his mother’s reaction, his complexion would be pale. He added that this boy would have five sons, all mighty archers. Having spoken, Vyasa respectfully greeted his mother and withdrew. Soon after, Satyavati once more requested Vyasa to grant her another grandson. The sage agreed. In due time, Ambalika gave birth to a son whose pale complexion shone with a strange radiance. From this son would be born five mighty sons—the Pandavas. All the appropriate birth rites for both children were performed in proper order. Bhishma ensured that learned Brahmins, well-versed in the Vedas, conducted all the necessary ceremonies. But when it was seen that Ambika’s child was blind, Satyavati summoned Vyasa again, requesting another child from Kausalya, desiring a virtuous heir unburdened by blindness. Vyasa replied that if Kausalya remained steadfast, she would bear a virtuous son, one learned in the essence of dharma and the meaning of the scriptures. With this resolve, Satyavati summoned her daughter-in-law once more. At the proper time, Satyavati assigned the elder bride to Vyasa. However, the bride, recalling the sage’s fearsome appearance and strong scent, hesitated. Instead of going herself, she adorned a maid with splendid ornaments, making her appear as beautiful as a celestial nymph, and sent her to Vyasa. The maid, thus prepared, approached Vyasa as he arrived. She was permitted to enter and honored the sage, serving him with kind words, gestures, and gentle touch. In secret, Vyasa was pleased with her, and they spent time together. When he rose to depart, he told her, “You shall become a mother, and the noble child in your womb will be righteous and foremost among the wise.” Thus was born Vidura, the son of Krishna Dvaipayana (Vyasa), brother to Dhritarashtra and Pandu. By the curse of the great sage Mandavya, Dharma himself was born as Vidura, one who knew the essence of right and wrong, free from desire and anger. Vyasa later reported all these events to Satyavati—his delay, and the birth of a son from the maid. Having fulfilled his duty, he announced the conception to his mother and then departed. Thus, from Vyasa in the field of Vichitravirya were born these sons, like children of the gods, who increased the Kuru lineage. At this point, a question arises: What deed did Dharma perform to incur such a curse, and by whose curse was the great sage born in a shudra womb? There was a Brahmin named Mandavya, renowned and steadfast, firmly established in truth, austerity, and knowledge of dharma. During his wanderings, he came to various holy places near villages and established his hermitage there. At the entrance to his hermitage, beneath a tree, the great ascetic stood with arms raised, absorbed in deep yoga and observing a vow of silence. For a long time, he practiced this great austerity. One day, robbers who had stolen plunder fled from their pursuers and entered Mandavya’s hermitage. Out of fear, they hid their stolen goods there and concealed themselves before the guards arrived. Soon, the guards came searching for the thieves and entered the hermitage. Upon arriving, I saw the sage there along with the thieves. I questioned the ascetic: “By which path did the robbers go, O best of the twice-born? Please tell us, so we may pursue them swiftly.