After honoring the Lord with divine garments, fragrant garlands, precious jewels, and ornaments, the assembled devotees adorned him with lotus wreaths and scented ointments. Their hearts filled with reverence, they worshipped Krishna, the Lord of the universe, whose banner bears Garuda, and circumambulated him, offering respectful salutations. Then, with his wives, sons, and friends, Krishna departed for the island in the ocean. At that very moment, by the grace of the Lord who played in human form, the Yamuna river became free from poison. Elsewhere, the king performed worship, offering incense, perfumes, and other gifts, using the sacred twelve-syllable mantra. Sūta continued: At that place, the king witnessed a distressing scene—a cow and a bull being beaten mercilessly, as if they were helpless. A low-born man, holding a club, stood nearby, disgracing the very idea of royalty. The bull, white as a lotus stalk, trembled in fear, shaking and standing precariously on a single leg, weakened by the blows of the Śūdra. The cow, who once gave warm milk, was now emaciated and tearful, separated from her calf, struck severely by the Śūdra’s feet, and longing for grass. Mounted on his chariot adorned with golden fittings, the king, with a thunderous voice and his bow raised, 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 those of a mere actor, not a true twice-born. You, who attack the innocent in secret, deserve to be punished, 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: “Your speech, O son of Pandu, is fitting for those who grant safety to the afflicted, for whom 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.” Sūta said: As Dharma spoke thus, the emperor addressed him, his mind focused, expressing his distress: “You speak of dharma, O knower of dharma, and you are dharma, taking the form of a bull; wherever adharma is committed, the informer shares in its place. Or perhaps, indeed, the course of divine illusion is inaccessible to the mind and speech of beings—this is certain. Austerity, purity, compassion, and truth are the legs established in the age of virtue; three have been broken by your pride, attachment, and intoxication. Now, Dharma, your remaining leg is truth, which you must uphold; but Kali, established by falsehood, seeks to seize it. And this earth, bearing a great burden, was entrusted by the Lord; adorned everywhere by the footprints of the glorious one. That virtuous lady, abandoned and unfortunate, weeps with tearful eyes; she laments, ‘Unworthy kings, disguised as rulers, and shudras will enjoy me.’ Thus, having comforted Dharma and the earth, the great charioteer took up his sharp sword, intent on punishing the cause of adharma. As he approached with intent to kill, abandoning the mark of royalty, Kali bowed his head at the king’s feet, overwhelmed by fear. The hero, compassionate to the distressed, did not slay the one fallen at his feet, being worthy of refuge. Smiling slightly, he spoke: “For you, whose hands are joined in respect, there is no fear at all from the glorious descendants of Guḍākeśa; you must not remain in my domain, O companion of adharma. As you dwell among the bodies of men, this host of adharma has arisen: greed, falsehood, theft, impiety, sin, deceit, quarrel, and hypocrisy. You must not remain, O companion of adharma; you must abide by dharma and truth, especially in the region where the wise, through sacrifices, worship the Lord of sacrifice. Where Hari, the blessed Lord, is worshipped, taking the form of the sacrifice, he bestows auspiciousness upon the worshippers; like air within and without, he is the soul of all, both moving and unmoving.” Sūta said: Thus instructed by Parīkṣit, Kali trembled with fear. He spoke to the king, who stood with sword raised, wielding the rod of punishment: “Wherever I may dwell, O sovereign, by your command, I see you present there, bearing your bow and arrows.