O mighty Lord, though you remain untouched by the qualities of nature, you preside over the birth, existence, and dissolution of this world. You uphold the power of time, awaken the various natures in all beings, and, through your unfailing glance, engage in wondrous play. The bodies you manifest across the three worlds—some peaceful, some restless, some born of delusion—are all dear to you, O scion of Indra. Yet the peaceful ones are especially beloved, for now, out of your desire to uphold dharma, you strive to protect and preserve the virtuous. A ruler must endure a single offense committed by his own subject; you ought to forgive, with a tranquil mind, one who acted in ignorance toward you. Grant us your mercy, O Lord, for the serpent is abandoning his life; let the husband, who is the very life of us women—wretched and deserving of compassion—be restored to us. Command us, your maidservants, so we may carry out your order; for one who performs your command with faith is freed from all fear. Thus, praised by the wives of the serpent, the Lord released the unconscious Kaliya, whose head was broken, 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: “We are wicked by birth, enveloped in darkness and long-standing anger, O Lord. This nature is hard to abandon, for it is the false grasping found among all beings. By you, O Creator, this universe has been fashioned, with the distribution of qualities; its various natures, powers, energies, forms, seeds, and inclinations arise from you. Among them, O Lord, we serpents are born with fierce anger. How can we abandon your māyā, which is hard to give up, when we ourselves are deluded by it? For you are the cause of all this, omniscient, Lord of the universe; whether you grant mercy or punishment, do as you deem fit for us.” Hearing these words, the Lord, acting as a human, spoke: “You must not remain here, O serpent; go to the ocean without delay. Leave this river to be enjoyed by cows, men, and your own kin, children, and wives. Whoever among mortals remembers this instruction I have given you, and recites it at both twilights, will not suffer fear from you. Whoever bathes here, where I played, and offers water to the gods and others, then fasts and worships me, remembering me, will be freed from all sins. Having left the island of Ramanaka and taken refuge in this lake, you were not devoured by Suparna out of fear, for you bear my foot-mark.” Thus addressed by Krishna, whose deeds are wondrous, Kaliya was worshipped joyfully and respectfully by his wives. They honored Krishna 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. He worshipped with incense, perfumes, and other offerings, using the twelve-syllable mantra. Meanwhile, Sūta continued: 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, now distressed, was severely struck by the feet of the Śūdra, separated from her calf, with tearful face, emaciated, and longing for grass. Mounted on his chariot, adorned with golden fittings, with a deep, thunderous voice and his bow raised, the king questioned them: “Who are you, who in this world, under my protection, unjustly harms the weak? Though you appear as a king, your actions are like those of an actor, not a twice-born. You, who attack the innocent in secret, deserve to be killed, now that Krishna has departed far away with the bearer of the Gāṇḍīva bow. Or are you, white as a lotus stalk, walking with diminished feet, a deity in the form of a bull, causing us distress? Never, while the earth was embraced by the mighty arms of the Kaurava kings, did grief afflict living beings here, except through you. “O daughter of Surabhi, do not grieve here; let your fear of the low-born vanish. Do not weep, mother; may auspiciousness be yours. I am the punisher of the wicked. In whose kingdom all subjects suffer from the wicked and the good alike, that intoxicated ruler loses his fame, lifespan, fortune, and path. This is the supreme duty of kings: to subdue the afflicted and punish their tormentors. Therefore, I shall kill this most wicked enemy of living beings. “Who has cut off your three legs, O daughter of Surabhi, you four-footed one? May such as you never exist in the realm of kings who follow Krishna. Tell me, O bull, may auspiciousness be yours, who is the cause of the disfigurement of the innocent, the defamer of the fame of the sons of Pritha. One who inflicts harm on the innocent and spreads fear everywhere, for him only the welfare of the virtuous is ensured when the wicked are subdued. He who, though innocent among beings, commits offenses without restraint, I shall seize his arm directly, even if he is mortal and wears a bracelet. For the king, the highest duty is to uphold his own dharma, to govern others according to the scriptures, and not to deviate from the path in adversity.” Dharma, in the form of the bull, replied: “This speech of yours, O son of Pandu, is fitting for those who grant safety to the afflicted, for whom the Lord Krishna was messenger and leader due to their virtues. We do not possess the seeds of suffering, O best among men; we are bewildered by the divisions in speech and do not recognize that person. Some, clothed in speculative opinions, declare the self to be the self; others say it is fate, some say it is action, and others claim nature as the master. For some, the conclusion is that it is inconceivable and indescribable; O royal sage, consider this according to your own discernment.