A deep sorrow had come upon her, the queen, from being separated from her beloved king. In her grief, she declared, “From this day forward, I will lie only on a bed of kusa grass, consumed by unhappiness, with my heart devoted solely to the hope of seeing you again.” She called out to her departed husband, “Show yourself to me, O tiger among men! Command me, though I am wretched and filled with sorrow. O lord of men, hear my lament as I dwell in misery and distress.” As she wept repeatedly, embracing the lifeless body of her beloved, her voice choked with emotion, she spoke these words: “Rise, gentle one, and go now. I grant you a boon here and now. Through you, I shall bear children, O one with the lovely smile.” She continued, “O beautiful one, on your own bed, on the fourteenth or the eighth day, after you have completed your ritual bath, you may unite with me.” Hearing these words, the devoted lady did exactly as she was instructed, for she desired a son. She followed the instructions precisely. By his power, through that departed body, she bore three sons of the Shalva line and four sons of the Madra line, O best of the Bharatas. In the same way, O best of the Bharatas, you too are able to beget sons in me by the power of asceticism and yoga. Hearing her words, the king replied to the lady, speaking excellent words grounded in righteousness and the knowledge of duty. He said, “Just so, O Kunti, in ancient times Vyushitashva did as you have said, O auspicious one; he was indeed like a god.” “Now, let me tell you the true principle of righteousness. Listen closely, for this was seen by ancient sages, those great souls who know dharma. In former times, O lovely-smiling one, women were unconfined and free to go where they wished, independent in their actions. For those women, O beautiful one, taking husbands after reaching youth was not considered unrighteous; that was the dharma in those days.” “Even now, among creatures born in animal forms, free from desire and anger, that ancient dharma is still followed. This dharma, established by authority, is honored by great sages and, even today, O slender-waisted one, it is revered among the northern Kurus. This eternal law brings favor to women.” “Fire is never sated with wood, nor the vast ocean with rivers; death is never satisfied with all beings, nor are women with men. In this way, the desire of women is directed toward every man; for women, O smiling one, there is no such thing as forbidden union. Whether it is a son, a grandson, or even a brother—when a woman sees a man in private, her womb is stirred. This is natural for women, O auspicious one, not caused by any external reason. But in this world, O smiling one, this custom did not last long.” “Listen as I tell you, in detail, by whom and how this custom was changed. There was a great sage named Uddālaka, as we have heard. His son was the sage Śvetaketu, and it was Śvetaketu who established the righteous custom that prevails today. Listen, lotus-eyed one, to the reason why, out of anger, he did this.” “Śvetaketu’s father, O goddess, undertook severe austerities. In the summer, he practiced the five-fire vow; in the rainy season, he remained under the open sky. In winter, he stood in water together with his wife, the great ascetic Uddālaka, engaged in strict penance with discipline and concentration. His son Śvetaketu served him faithfully.” “One day, a certain brahmin, aged and gray-haired, arrived. Seeing the guest, the sage was pleased and honored him according to the scriptures—with words of welcome, water for washing his feet, and gentle speech. He offered him wild greens, roots, fruits, and other forest fare, for the guest was weary from hunger, thirst, and hardship.” “After resting, the brahmin approached the sage and asked, ‘O great sage Uddālaka, tell me the truth, do not speak falsely. This boy, son of a sage, is especially handsome; I think he is your son—tell me, have you accomplished your purpose?’” “Uddālaka replied, ‘My wife, O wise one, is the daughter of Kuśika; she is devoted to me alone, always faithful, like Arundhatī among wives. Her austerities have made her thin-breasted. From her was born Śvetaketu, my son, a great ascetic. He is a learned brahmin, versed in the Vedas and Vedāṅgas, devoted to my instruction, wise in worldly matters, renowned among all people, truthful, and compassionate.’” “The old brahmin then said, ‘I am old, weak of sight, seeking wealth with a wife but no son; I am not yet freed from ancestral debts, nor have I taken a second wife before. Your wife, endowed with noble conduct and of a fitting lineage, is suitable for producing offspring; I wish to take her—please forgive me.’” “Having spoken thus, the intelligent, weak-eyed elder, his limbs slack and leaning on a staff, approached the deer-eyed woman, clad in bark and black antelope skin. That twice-born man, intent on his own purpose, considered her the best, though her mind was elsewhere. This happened, it is said, before Śvetaketu, in the presence of his mother and father.” “The brahmin took the woman by the hand, saying, ‘Let us go.’ At that moment, Śvetaketu, whose austerity blazed with power, became angry and indignant. Seeing his mother thus being led away as if by force, Śvetaketu could not endure it. Grasping his mother by the hand, Śvetaketu spoke: ‘Wicked brahmin, release my mother, who is devoted to her husband! My own father is a brahmarṣi, patient and learned in the Veda, capable of both cursing and blessing, and steadfast in great vows, yet he remains silent.