The tale unfolds with a prophecy spoken by the sage Kṛṣṇa Dvaipāyana. He declares that the child soon to be born will be exceedingly valiant and renowned throughout all directions, yet, owing to his mother's actions, his complexion will be pale. This child, he foretells, will father five sons, all destined to become great archers. Having spoken these words, the sage respectfully greeted his mother and departed. But Satyavatī, his mother, longing for more heirs to continue the royal lineage, again requested another son. The sage, ever compassionate, replied, "So be it." In due course, the queen gave birth to a son who bore marks of pallor, his appearance shining with a certain splendor. From this son would arise five mighty-armed sons—the Pandavas. All the birth rites for both children were performed properly and in their prescribed order. Bhishma, ever vigilant in his duties, arranged for learned Brahmins, well-versed in the Vedas, to perform all the ceremonies. When it was revealed that Satyavatī's son, Ambika's child, had been born blind, Satyavatī, for the sake of Kausalya, summoned her son once more and requested another child. She said, "This one is blind; I desire another, a virtuous son from Kausalya." The sage replied, "If Kausalya is steadfast, she will again bear a virtuous child, one learned in the essence of dharma and the meaning of the scriptures." Thus resolved, Satyavatī summoned her daughter-in-law again. At the proper season, she assigned the elder bride to the sage, but the bride, reflecting upon the sage's appearance and scent, hesitated. Out of fear, she did not obey the queen's command. Instead, she adorned a maid with splendid ornaments, making her resemble an apsara, and sent the maid to Kṛṣṇa Dvaipāyana. The maid, made beautiful, approached the sage as he arrived. Having been permitted to enter, she honored him and served him with gifts of words, gestures, and by touching his limbs. In secret, the sage enjoyed pleasure with her and was satisfied. The great sage, firm in his vows, dwelled with her. Upon rising, he spoke to her, "You shall become a mother, and this noble child has entered your womb. He will be righteous in the world, foremost among all the wise." Thus was born Vidura, son of Kṛṣṇa Dvaipāyana, brother to Dhṛtarāṣṭra and the great Pāṇḍu. By the curse of the great-souled Māṇḍavya, Dharma was born in the form of Vidura, knowing the essence of right and wrong, free from desire and anger. Kṛṣṇa Dvaipāyana reported all these events to Satyavatī: his own delay and the birth of a son from the maid. Having fulfilled his duty to Dharma, he again met his mother, announced the conception to her, and then disappeared from that place. Thus, those born from Dvaipāyana in the field of Vicitravīrya—resembling children of the gods—came to increase the Kuru lineage. A question arises: What deed did Dharma perform to incur a curse, and by whose curse was the great sage born in a śūdra womb? There was a Brahmin named Māṇḍavya, renowned, steadfast, knowing all dharma, firm in truth and austerity. He wandered on pilgrimage to various holy places near villages, and there, establishing his hermitage, the great sage dwelled. At the entrance of his hermitage, beneath a tree, the great ascetic stood with arms raised, absorbed in deep yoga, observing a vow of silence. While he was engaged in this great austerity for a long time, robbers who had stolen plunder came to his hermitage. Pursued by many guards, the thieves entered that very dwelling. In the place where the sage lay, the thieves hid their plunder and concealed themselves out of fear, just before the guards arrived. The guards soon came to the hermitage and found the sage accompanied by the thieves. They questioned the ascetic, asking which path the robbers had taken, hoping to pursue them quickly. But the ascetic, steadfast in his silence, did not utter a single word, neither good nor bad. The king’s men searched the hermitage and discovered the thieves hiding there, along with the stolen goods. Suspicion arose among the guards regarding the sage, and they restrained him, reporting both him and the thieves to the king. The king, together with the thieves, condemned the sage to death. Unaware of his true nature, the guards impaled the great ascetic on a stake. After impaling him, the guards returned to the king, taking the wealth with them. Māṇḍavya, righteous and steadfast, remained impaled on the stake for a long time without food, yet did not die. He sustained his life, summoned other sages, and endured the pain at the tip of the stake, continuing his austerity. The sages, endowed with austerity, felt great distress. At night, they gathered together in the form of birds and questioned Māṇḍavya as best they could: "We wish to hear, O Brahmin, what sin you have committed, by which you have come to this great suffering and fear on the stake." Then Māṇḍavya, that tiger among sages, spoke to them: "By my own fault I shall go; no one else has wronged me.