The king of the Gandharvas and the divine messenger, both noble and radiant beings, approached the Lord of Dharma with a request. They spoke, saying, “O Lord of Dharma, if you so decide, let Pramadvara, Ruru’s auspicious wife, rise again, by granting her half of Ruru’s lifespan.” The Lord of Dharma then addressed the divine messenger, saying, “If you wish, let Pramadvara, Ruru’s wife, be restored to life, endowed with half of Ruru’s lifespan.” As these words were spoken, the maiden Pramadvara arose, her complexion shining with brilliance, as if she had merely awakened from sleep, now possessing half of Ruru’s life span. In this way, it was foreseen that for the sake of his beloved wife, half of Ruru’s splendid and long life would be diminished. On an auspicious day, their fathers joyfully arranged the marriage of Ruru and Pramadvara. United in seeking each other’s welfare, the two delighted in each other’s company. Having obtained his rare and radiant wife, as beautiful as the filament of a lotus, Ruru made a solemn vow: he would destroy all crooked beings, remaining steadfast in his resolve. Whenever Ruru saw these crooked beings, his anger would flare intensely, and he would always strike them as best he could, seizing his weapon to fulfill his vow. One day, the Brahmin Ruru entered a great forest, where he encountered a Dundubha, an aged serpent, lying on the ground. Ruru, filled with anger and intent on killing, raised his staff like the rod of Time and spoke to the Dundubha. The serpent replied, “O possessor of austerities, I have done you no wrong today. Why, filled with anger, do you wish to strike me?” Ruru answered, “My wife, as dear to me as my own life, was bitten by a serpent. Because of that, I made a terrible vow against all serpents. I vowed to slay every serpent I see; therefore, I seek to kill you now—you shall lose your life today.” But then Ruru paused, reflecting, “Other serpents have bitten humans here, O Dundubha, but you, who bear the scent of a Dundubha, do not deserve to be harmed. There are various harms, different duties, many sorrows, and separate joys; O Dundubha, being one who knows righteousness, you do not deserve to be harmed.” Hearing these words, Ruru recognized Dundubha as a sage and did not kill him, though he was fearful. The venerable Ruru then spoke gently to calm him: “Tell me, serpent, by what cause have you come to this state, and who are you?” The serpent replied, “I was once the sage named Ruru, with a thousand feet. By the curse of a Brahmin, I have come to take the form of a serpent.” Ruru asked, “For what reason did the angry Brahmin curse you, O best of serpents? And for how long will you remain in this form?” The serpent explained, “In former times, a Brahmin named Khagama was my friend. He was strict in speech, devoted to austerity, and endowed with spiritual power. While playing in childhood, I made a serpent out of grass. He, engaged in the fire ritual, was frightened and fainted. Regaining consciousness, that ascetic, strict in vows and truthful in speech, spoke to me, burning with anger: ‘Just as you made this serpent to frighten me, so by my curse you shall become a serpent, equal in strength.’ Knowing the power of his austerity, I was greatly disturbed in heart, and I spoke to him at that time. Out of agitation, I stood before him with joined palms and said, ‘Friend, this was done as a jest for amusement. You ought to forgive me, O Brahmin; let this curse be withdrawn.’ Seeing me greatly troubled, he spoke, breathing hotly again and again, deeply agitated: ‘I have not spoken falsely; this shall certainly come to pass. But listen to what I shall say to you, O ascetic; let this word always remain in your heart, O sinless one. A pure son named Ruru will be born to Pramati; upon seeing him, your curse will be released, and not long after.’ Thus spoken by him, I attained the form of a serpent. You are known as Ruru, the son of Pramati. Today, having regained my true form, I shall speak to you for your benefit.” Then, abandoning the form of Dundubha, that illustrious Brahmin sage regained his radiant true form. He spoke to Ruru, whose strength was unmatched: “Non-injury is the highest dharma, O best among all living beings. Therefore, a Brahmin should never harm any living creature; the supreme teaching here is that a Brahmin is gentle. One who knows the Vedas and their branches is called the giver of fearlessness to all beings; non-injury, truthfulness, and forgiveness are established as his qualities. The highest duty of a Brahmin is the preservation of the Vedas; but the duty of a Kshatriya is not the same as yours. Bearing the rod of authority, displaying fierceness, and protecting the people—these are indeed the actions of a Kshatriya. Listen to me, Ruru. In the sacrifice of Janamejaya, there was once the destruction of snakes, and also the protection of frightened serpents by a Brahmin. From Astika, foremost among the twice-born, endowed with ascetic power, energy, and strength, and accomplished in the Vedas and their branches, O best of Brahmins, came deliverance at the snake-sacrifice.” Ruru, eager to learn, asked, “How did King Janamejaya harm the snakes? And why were the snakes harmed there, O best of Brahmins? For what reason were the serpents released by the wise Astika? O best of Brahmins, I wish to hear everything in detail.