After imparting wisdom to his sons on the sacred duty of protecting creation, the royal sage King Prācīnabarhī withdrew from worldly affairs. With a heart yearning for higher truth, he journeyed to the hermitage of the illustrious Kapila, seeking solitude and the path of austerity. There, his mind unwavering and wholly absorbed, the steadfast king fixed his devotion upon the lotus feet of Govinda. Free from all attachments, he worshipped with one-pointed concentration, and through the power of his devotion, attained likeness with the Lord Himself. O pure-hearted one, know that this sublime teaching on the transcendental Self was sung by the divine sage. Whoever recites or listens to these sacred words is released from the bonds of material existence. The purifying glories of Mukunda, which cleanse the world, have flowed from the lips of the foremost of divine sages, and embody the very purity of the Self. Whoever hears these recitations is elevated to the supreme state, freed from all bondage, and no longer wanders through the cycle of birth and death. This wondrous, transcendental wisdom, now received, dispels all doubts regarding the duties of women and men, both in this life and beyond. Śuka then spoke: When the Lord, Kṛṣṇa, suddenly vanished from their sight, the women of Vraja were plunged into anguish, just as female elephants grieve when separated from their leader. Immersed in memories of His graceful movements, affectionate words, enchanting smiles, playful glances, and delightful pastimes, the gopīs, their minds wholly captivated by the Lord of Lakṣmī, began to imitate His actions, each one identifying herself with Him. In their walking, smiling, glancing, and speaking, the beloveds of the Beloved, embodying His very essence, mirrored Kṛṣṇa’s playful ways, each one convinced in her heart, “I am He.” Gathering together, they sang aloud of Him and wandered from forest to forest, like those possessed by love, searching for their Beloved. In their longing, they questioned the trees—who, though standing apart, contain the Supreme Person within—as if appealing to the very sky. “O Aśvattha, Plakṣa, Nyagrodha! Have you seen the son of Nanda pass this way, He who steals our hearts with loving glances and radiant smiles? O Kurabaka, Aśoka, Nāga, Punnāga, Campaka, has the younger brother of Rāma, whose smile humbles the proud, come this way among the proud maidens? O blessed Tulasī, so dear to Govinda’s feet and surrounded by bees, have you seen our beloved Acyuta, adorned with you, pass by? O Mālatī, Mallikā, Jāti, Yūthikā, have you felt Mādhava’s touch as He passed, delighting you? O Cūta, Priyāla, Panasa, Āsana, Kovida, Jambu, Arka, Bilva, Bakula, Āmra, Kadamba, Nīpa, and all you trees on Yamunā’s banks, please show us, whose hearts are empty, the path Kṛṣṇa has taken.” They addressed the Earth herself: “O Earth, what great austerity have you performed, that you shine so, your hairs standing on end with joy at the festival of Keśava’s feet upon you? Is it His touch, His mighty deeds, or the embrace of His Boar form that fills you with ecstasy? Or has Acyuta come here to His beloved, O friend, delighting her senses with His form and gaze? The fragrance of the garland adorning Him, stained with kuṅkuma from His beloved’s breasts, wafts upon the air.” They continued, “With His lotus hand on her shoulder, Rāma’s younger brother, followed by intoxicated bees and Tulasī, wanders here. Do the trees bow in reverence as He passes, glancing at them with affection? Ask these creepers, who embrace the trees with their arms—surely, touched by His hand, they shiver in delight.” Thus, in their longing and madness, the gopīs, distraught in their search for Kṛṣṇa, imitated His playful acts, each one absorbed in Him. One, imitating Pūtanā, approached and offered her breast for Kṛṣṇa to suckle; another, pretending to be a weeping child, was comforted; yet another, playing the cart-demon, was struck with a foot. One took the role of a demon and seized another playing Kṛṣṇa; another, mimicking the sounds of the cowherd settlement, dragged a companion by the foot. Some, acting as Kṛṣṇa and Rāma, played at herding cows, while one, as the calf-demon, was defeated, and another took the part of the crane-demon. Calling out to one far away, as Kṛṣṇa would, another followed after, playing the flute and delighting in sport, while the others praised her, exclaiming, “Well done!” One, placing her arm on another’s shoulder as she walked, declared, “I am Kṛṣṇa—see my graceful gait,” her mind fully absorbed in Him. Another, saying, “Do not fear the wind or rain; I have arranged for your protection,” tried to cover her friend with her garment, using only one hand. One climbed upon another, stepping on her head, and said, “Wicked one, go away! I am born as the punisher of the wicked!” Another cried, “O cowherds, see this terrible forest fire! Close your eyes, and I will quickly ensure your safety.” A slender one tied another with a garland to a mortar, saying, “I am binding the butter thief who broke the pots and stole the clarified butter!” The other, frightened, covered her eyes and feigned fear. In this way, as they questioned the creepers and trees of Vṛndāvana about Kṛṣṇa, the gopīs pointed out His footprints in the forest. “These footprints, so clearly marked, belong to the great son of Nanda; see the symbols of the banner, lotus, thunderbolt, goad, and barleycorn.” Following these footprints, the women pressed ahead. Soon they saw, closely joined with Kṛṣṇa’s, the footprints of one of their own, and they spoke in distress. “Whose footprints are these, walking with the son of Nanda, her arm on his shoulder, just as an elephant cow is embraced by the elephant? Surely, she has worshipped Hari, the Supreme Lord, for Govinda, pleased, has left us all and led her away in secret. How blessed are these creepers and plants, dusted by the pollen from Govinda’s lotus feet—feet that Brahmā, Śiva, and Lakṣmī themselves place upon their heads for the highest good.” They noticed that the other gopī’s footprints, pressed deeply into the earth, soon disappeared. “This disturbs us, for Acyuta, having taken only her from among us, enjoys her lips in secret. Her footprints vanish—surely, her tender feet, pained by grass and sprouts, caused her beloved to lift her up. See here, friends, these footprints are pressed deeper—Kṛṣṇa, burdened by love, is carrying his beloved; and here, the great-souled one set her down to pick flowers. For her, he plucked blooms, and at every step, the marks of his feet are clear.” “Here, a lover arranged the hair of his beloved; surely, while she was seated here, he adorned her tresses. Though self-satisfied and whole in himself, he enjoyed with her, showing the wretchedness of lovers and the fickleness of women.” Thus, as they revealed these signs, the gopīs, bewildered and heartsick, wandered about the forest.