At Krishna’s gentle command, the cowherd boys were sent to the homes of the wives of the noble brahmins. “Go and inform the wives,” Krishna said, “along with Sankarshana and myself having come. They, affectionate and devoted to me in thought, will gladly give you food.” The boys obeyed, making their way to the houses where the brahmins’ wives sat, adorned and serene. With reverence, the cowherds bowed low before these virtuous women and spoke respectfully: “Salutations to you, O wives of the brahmins. Please listen to our words. Not far from here, we, sent by Krishna, are tending the cows.” They continued, “Krishna, with Rama and the cowherds, has traveled a long way. He is hungry, as are his companions. Please give food to him.” Upon hearing that Achyuta—Krishna—had come, the hearts of the women, always eager to see him and absorbed in his stories, leapt with excitement. Gathering four kinds of excellent food in vessels, all the wives hurried forth to their beloved, as rivers rush to the ocean. Even though their husbands, brothers, relatives, and sons tried to restrain them, the women, their minds fixed on the Lord of excellent fame and sustained by teachings long heard, pressed forward. They reached a grove on the Yamuna, adorned with fresh asoka shoots, and there they saw Krishna, surrounded by cowherds and his elder brother, wandering amidst the trees. Before them stood Krishna, dark as a raincloud, clad in golden garments, adorned with forest garlands and peacock feathers. He was dressed as a dancer, with a lotus resting on his shoulder, twirling another in his hand, his ear adorned with a lily, locks framing his cheeks, and his face blossoming with a radiant smile. The women, whose minds were immersed in him, whose stories delighted their ears, drank in his presence through their eyes, embraced him within their hearts, and as wise souls, let go of all sorrow as they wished. Having abandoned all other hopes, they had come, desiring to see their very Self. Krishna, the seer of all, understanding their hearts, greeted them with a smiling face: “Welcome, O highly fortunate ones! Please be seated. What may I do for you? It is fitting that you have come here, desiring to see us.” He continued, “Those who are truly wise and seek their own good render to me, who am dear to their very selves, devotion that is causeless and unbroken. Life, intellect, mind, self, wives, children, wealth, and so on—all these become dear through contact with me; therefore, who else could truly be dear?” Then Krishna gently advised, “Now go to the sacrificial altar, O wives of the twice-born! Your husbands, householders, will complete their own sacrifice with your participation.” But the wives pleaded, “Do not speak so harshly, O Lord! Fulfill the promise of your scripture at your feet. We have come, leaving behind all relatives, to gather the dust of your feet adorned with tulasi, to place in our hair. Neither our husbands, nor parents, nor children, nor brothers, nor friends, nor anyone else will accept us now. Therefore, O subduer of enemies, for those of us who have fallen at your feet, there is no other refuge—please grant us this.” Krishna reassured them, “Let not your husbands, fathers, brothers, sons, or others bear resentment; even the worlds, the gods, and all beings honor you, as you are now connected with me. Physical association among people in this world is not for love or affection; by fixing your minds on me, you will soon attain me.” Śuka continued the tale: Thus addressed, the wives of the brahmins returned to the sacrificial enclosure, and their husbands, now free of envy, completed the sacrifice with their wives. There, one woman, restrained by her husband, embraced the Lord in her heart as she had heard, and, giving up her body bound by karma, attained liberation. The Lord Govinda, with that very food, fed the cowherds in fourfold ways, and the Lord himself also partook. Thus, the Lord, assuming a human form for his play, delighted the cows, cowherds, and cowherd women with his beauty, words, and deeds. Meanwhile, the brahmins recalled the request made to the Lords of the universe by their wives. Repenting for their offense, having mocked the Lord in human guise, they became remorseful. Seeing the extraordinary devotion of their wives to Lord Krishna, and recognizing their own lack of such devotion, they blamed themselves: “Fie upon our birth, our threefold knowledge, our vows, our great learning, our lineage, and our ritual expertise—if we are turned away from the Lord beyond sense perception. Surely, the Lord's māyā is deluding, even for yogis; for we, the teachers of men, are bewildered about our own true welfare.” They marveled, “Behold the steadfastness of these women, who, even for Krishna, the teacher of the world, broke the bonds of death called ‘home.’ These women had no initiation as twice-born, no residence with a teacher, no austerity, no self-inquiry, no purity, and no auspicious rituals. Still, even though we possess refinement and other virtues, our devotion to Krishna, the Lord of the most exalted, the master of all yogis, is not firm.” They admitted, “Though we were deluded about our true welfare and distracted by household life, He reminded us of the path of the righteous through the words of the cowherd women. Otherwise, what need would we, who are subject to His command, have for boons like liberation or anything else, from Him who is the Lord of all blessings and whose desires are already fulfilled? This is only a display of His play.” They reflected, “Lakshmi, seeking only the touch of His feet, abandons all others and worships Him even once; her request for liberation from her own faults is merely a deluding charm for people. Place, time, distinct objects, mantras, rituals, priests, fires, deities, the sacrificer, the sacrifice, and dharma—all these are composed of Him. He, this very Lord, Vishnu, the master of all yogis, has appeared among the Yadus—we have heard so, yet, being deluded, we do not truly know Him. Ah, how blessed we are, for among us are such women whose unwavering devotion to Hari has arisen in their hearts.” With humility, they offered obeisance: “Obeisance to You, O Lord Krishna, of unfailing wisdom; deluded by Your maya, our minds wander along the paths of karma. He, the original person, surely forgives the transgressions of those whose minds are bewildered by His own maya and who do not recognize His true nature.” Thus, remembering their own offense, though they had neglected Krishna, they did not waver in their desire to see the infallible ones, even though they were afraid of Kamsa. They pondered, “If the planets are the cause of happiness and distress for a person, what concern is that for the soul, who is unborn? The wise say that the planets only affect other planets; so, to whom should a person direct anger?” So, in this way, the devotion of the brahmins’ wives shone forth, and the humility and repentance of the brahmins themselves deepened, as all recognized the supreme grace and play of Lord Krishna.