The Lord spoke with great care, instructing that his teachings should not be shared with those consumed by greed, nor with those whose minds are entangled in household concerns. He cautioned against teaching those who lack devotion to him, and especially not to those who harbor hatred toward his devotees. Instead, he said, these sacred truths should be entrusted to those who are faithful, devoted, disciplined, free from envy, friendly to all beings, and eager to serve. They are to be given to those who are outwardly detached, whose minds are peaceful, pure, free from envy, and for whom the Lord is dearest of all. He assured, “O mother, anyone who hears these teachings even once with faith, or recites them with a mind fixed upon me, will surely attain my path.” Śuka then continued the tale. Having listened to the most beautiful words of the Lord, the cowherd women felt their pain of separation melt away; their desires were fulfilled simply by his presence. There, Govinda began the rāsa play, surrounded by the devoted and joyful gopīs, the finest among women, their arms entwined with one another. The festival of rāsa commenced, the circle of gopīs shining, and Krishna, the lord of yogis, stood between each pair among them. Entering among them, he drew the women close by the neck; those who witnessed this would imagine the sky crowded with hundreds of flying palaces. The gods, along with their wives, were swept up in eagerness as they watched. Drums resounded, showers of flowers fell, and the Gandharvas sang his spotless glory with their wives. In the rāsa circle, a tumultuous sound arose from the bracelets, anklets, and bells of the women, together with their beloveds. Amidst them, the Lord, son of Devakī, shone brilliantly, like a great emerald among golden gems. With the stamping of feet, waving of arms, smiling glances, playful movements of brows, swaying earrings brushing their cheeks, and loosened hair braids damp with sweat, Krishna’s wives sang, shining like lightning within a circle of clouds. Dancing, their voices raised, throats flushed with passion, delighted by Krishna’s touch, the beloveds sang, filling the place with their song. One gopī, together with Mukunda, skillfully blended her singing with his. Honored by him with affection and praised as “well done, well done,” she sang again and again, and he showed her great favor. Another, exhausted from the rāsa, rested her arm—her bracelet loosened, jasmine garland slipping—upon the shoulder of the mace-bearer beside her. Another, taking Krishna’s arm, fragrant with blue lotus and sandalwood, to her nose, thrilled with joy and kissed it. One gopī, her cheek adorned with gleaming earrings tossed by her dancing, pressed her cheek to his and offered him betel she had chewed. Another, dancing and singing, her anklets and girdle ringing, weary, placed the lotus hand of Acyuta, who stood beside her, upon her breasts for comfort. Having gained Acyuta as their beloved, the exclusive consort of Śrī, the gopīs embraced him around the neck with their arms and, singing, enjoyed with him. With lotus earrings, locks of hair, cheeks shining with sweat, faces radiant, and the music of bracelets and anklets, the gopīs danced together with the Lord, their garlands loosened in their hair, in the company of bees singing in the cowherd’s grove. With embraces, touches of the hand, affectionate glances, exuberant playful smiles and laughter, the Lord of Lakshmi delighted with the beautiful women of Vraja, just as a child delights in his own reflected image. Their senses overwhelmed with joy from contact with his limbs, the women of Vraja—hair, garments, or breastbands loosened—could not properly gather up what had fallen, O best of the Kurus, their garlands and ornaments slipping down. Seeing Krishna’s playful sports, the celestial women in the sky became bewildered, overcome by desire; even the moon and his retinue were astonished. By his own playful will, the Blessed Lord, though self-satisfied, assumed as many forms as there were cowherd women, enjoying with them all. When they became tired from excessive play, he, compassionate and loving, gently wiped their faces with his peaceful hand. The gopīs, their cheeks adorned by the radiance of golden earrings and hair, with sweet smiles and glances, sang of the glorious deeds of the foremost of men, feeling blessed by the touch of his lotus hands. Surrounded by those women, their garlands crushed and smeared with saffron from their breasts, he entered the forest, followed by hosts of Gandharvas, just as a weary elephant, breaking through a dam, enters the water surrounded by female elephants. There, as Krishna was bathed by the young women, gazed upon with love and laughter from all sides, and praised by the celestial beings showering flowers, he, the self-delighting Lord, sported like the king of elephants. Then, in Krishna’s grove, on land and water, where the directions were filled with the fragrance of flowers, he wandered, surrounded by swarms of joyful women like a rutting elephant with his female companions. Thus, through nights adorned by the rays of the moon, he, true to his word and surrounded by loving women, enjoyed with them, his passion absorbed within himself, savoring the poetic essence of the autumn season. King Parikshit, hearing this, asked: “To establish righteousness and subdue unrighteousness, the Lord descends in person. How then, O Brahman, could he, who is the speaker, doer, and protector of the boundaries of righteousness, act contrary to them by touching the wives of others? The Lord of the Yadus, who is self-satisfied, performed an act that is censured; what was his intention in this? Please dispel our doubt, O virtuous one.” Shuka replied: “Transgressions of righteousness and bold acts are seen among the lords, the gods; for the powerful, there is no fault, just as fire consumes everything. One who is not a lord should never imitate this, not even in thought. If he acts out of ignorance, he perishes, just as Rudra was harmed by the poison from the ocean. The words of the lords are true, and so too are their actions at times; the wise should follow only those of their words and deeds that are in accord with reason. By their skillful conduct, they have no personal aim here; nor, O master, is there harm for those without ego, even if the opposite occurs. What then of all beings—animals, mortals, and gods—who are ruled and to be ruled? The connection of good and evil applies to them. Those who are satisfied by serving the dust of His lotus feet, whose powers of yoga have dissolved all bondage of karma, roam freely as sages, unrestrained. By His will, having assumed a body, how could there be any bondage at all? He who dwells within all beings—the gopīs, their husbands, and everyone embodied—is the overseer, playing here in bodies.