With deep reverence and humility, the wives of the serpent Kaliya offered their heartfelt obeisance to the Supreme Lord, the great soul, the abode and origin of all beings, whose transcendence and supreme self pervades everything. They saluted Him as the treasure-house of knowledge and wisdom, the Absolute of infinite power, beyond all qualities and change, untouched by the world. Their prayers continued, honoring Him as Time itself, the source and witness of time’s divisions, the very universe, the overseer and creator of all. They bowed to the Self within all elements, senses, breath, mind, intellect, and inner disposition—experienced inwardly, yet hidden by the veil of the three qualities. They praised the infinite, subtle, immutable, all-knowing One, who accommodates all doctrines and is the power behind speech and silence. Again and again, they saluted the root of all valid knowledge, the sage, the source of scripture, the path of action and renunciation, the Veda itself. With devotion, they offered salutations to Krishna, to Rama, to the son of Vasudeva, to Pradyumna, to Aniruddha, and to the Lord of the Sātvatas. They worshipped the lamp of the qualities, the One who veils Himself with those qualities, who is perceived through their functions, the seer of the qualities and the inner consciousness. With reverence, they saluted Hṛṣīkeśa, the sage and silent ascetic, who sports in the unmanifest and perfects all that is manifest. They honored Him, who knows the course of the higher and lower, who oversees all, both the unmanifest and manifest, the seer of all and its cause. They acknowledged that, though unattached to the qualities, He presides over the birth, existence, and dissolution of the world, upholding the power of time, awakening various natures in beings, and, by His unfailing glance, engaging in wondrous play. They recognized that His forms in the three worlds—peaceful, restless, and born of delusion—are dear to Him, especially the peaceful ones. Now, out of desire to uphold dharma, He strives to protect the virtuous. They pleaded that a ruler should endure a single offense by his subject, and forgive with a tranquil mind one who acted in ignorance. With tears, they begged for mercy, asking the Lord to restore their husband, the serpent, who was abandoning his life, for he was their very life and deserved compassion. They asked for His command, so they might carry out His order, for one who acts with faith is freed from all fear. Śuka then described how, praised by the wives of the serpent, the Lord released Kaliya, whose head had been crushed, from the crushing of His feet. Regaining his senses and breath, Kaliya slowly looked upon Hari. Struggling to breathe, weak and distressed, he spoke to Krishna with folded hands. Kaliya confessed that he and his kind were wicked by birth, enveloped in darkness and anger, and that such nature was hard to abandon, for it was the false grasping found among all beings. He acknowledged that the universe was fashioned by the Lord, with the distribution of qualities, and that all natures, powers, energies, forms, seeds, and inclinations arose from Him. Among them, the serpents were born with fierce anger, and he wondered how they could abandon the Lord’s māyā, which was hard to give up, when they themselves were deluded by it. Kaliya accepted the Lord as the cause of all, omniscient, and the master of the universe, and submitted himself to whatever mercy or punishment the Lord deemed fit. Śuka continued: hearing these words, the Lord, acting as a human, spoke, instructing Kaliya not to remain in the river but to go to the ocean without delay, leaving the river for cows, men, his kin, children, and wives. Krishna declared that whoever among mortals remembered this instruction and recited it at both twilights would not suffer fear from Kaliya. Whoever bathed where Krishna had played, offered water to the gods and others, fasted, and worshipped Him would be freed from all sins. Krishna revealed that Kaliya had left the island of Ramanaka and taken refuge in this lake, and was not devoured by Suparna out of fear, for he bore Krishna’s foot-mark. The sage described how, thus addressed by Krishna, whose deeds are wondrous, Kaliya was worshipped joyfully and respectfully by his wives. They honored him with divine garments, garlands, precious jewels, ornaments, fragrant ointments, and a great garland of lotuses. Having worshipped the Lord of the universe, pleased Garuda-bannered Krishna, they circumambulated Him and offered respectful salutations. With all his wives, friends, and sons, Kaliya departed for the ocean’s island. At that moment, the Yamuna became free of poison, by the grace of the Lord who played in human form. Kaliya worshipped Krishna with incense, perfumes, and other offerings, using the twelve-syllable mantra. Sūta then continued the tale. There, the king saw a cow and bull being beaten as if they were helpless, and he saw a low-born man holding a club, a disgrace to royalty. The bull, white as a lotus stalk, trembled as if urinating in fear, shaking, standing on one leg, and weakened by blows from the Śūdra. The cow, who once gave warm milk, was distressed, severely struck by the feet of the Śūdra, separated from her calf, tearful, emaciated, and longing for grass. Mounted on his chariot adorned with golden fittings, the king, with a deep, thunderous voice and his bow raised, questioned them. He demanded to know who, under his protection in this world, unjustly harmed the weak. Though the man appeared as a king, his actions were like those of an actor, not a twice-born. The king declared that one who attacked the innocent in secret deserved to be killed, especially now that Krishna had departed far away with the bearer of the Gāṇḍīva bow. He wondered if the bull, white as a lotus stalk and walking with diminished feet, was a deity in the form of a bull, causing distress. He recalled that while the earth was embraced by the mighty arms of the Kaurava kings, grief never afflicted living beings except through the bull. He comforted the cow, daughter of Surabhi, telling her not to grieve or fear the low-born man, and not to weep, wishing her auspiciousness. He assured her that he was the punisher of the wicked. The king declared that in whose kingdom all subjects suffered from the wicked and the good alike, that intoxicated ruler lost his fame, lifespan, fortune, and path.