Once, I was celebrated as the “king of men,” riding in chariots adorned with gold and atop mighty elephants. Yet, by the unstoppable force of time, this very body, once honored, becomes nothing more than excrement, worms, or ashes. Even when a man conquers all directions, assuming a stature as vast as the earth, seated upon a splendid throne and honored by other kings, he is still led, O Lord, like a plaything of women into the pleasures of the home—like a beast for their sport. Even those who perform actions firmly rooted in austerity, who renounce enjoyment and give charity as prescribed, again desire, “May I become a sovereign king,” and with ever-increasing thirst, they do not attain happiness. Only after wandering through worldly existence does a person, O Infallible One, attain liberation. Then, at that very moment, he gains the association of the virtuous, and through such association, devotion to You, the Lord of all, arises. O Lord, I consider it Your favor that, by chance, my attachment to the kingdom has been removed—something sought by the virtuous, who, desiring to enter the forest, renounce the unbroken expanse of land. O Master, I desire no boon other than service at Your feet, which is most sought after even by those who possess nothing. For who, having worshiped You, the giver of liberation, would choose any other boon that binds the soul? Therefore, O Lord, abandoning all desires everywhere—bound as they are to the qualities of passion, ignorance, and goodness—I approach You, the pure, qualityless, nondual, supreme Person, who is pure consciousness. Long tormented here by suffering and remorse, afflicted by enemies such as thirst, never finding peace, I have somehow come to Your lotus feet, O shelter-giving Supreme Soul. Protect me, O Lord, who am helpless, with fearlessness, immortality, and freedom from sorrow. The Blessed Lord replied, “O great king, ruler of the earth, your mind is pure and steadfast, for even when tempted by boons, it has not been disturbed by desires. Know that your being tempted by boons was only to test your vigilance; the mind of those with exclusive devotion is never shaken by blessings. For those who practice yoga but lack devotion, O king, the mind, with its undiminished desires, is seen to rise again, even after control through breath and other means. Roam the earth as you wish, with your mind absorbed in Me; may you always have unwavering devotion to Me. Though you have killed creatures while fulfilling your warrior’s duty—in hunting and other ways—by taking refuge in Me and being intent on austerity, cast off sin. In your next birth, O king, you will become the best of the twice-born, a supreme friend to all beings, and you will attain Me alone.” Śuka continued: Thus, O dear one, having been favored by Kṛṣṇa, the son of Ikṣvāku circumambulated Him, bowed down, and departed from the mouth of the cave. Observing the small humans, animals, herbs, and trees, and realizing that the age of Kali had arrived, he turned toward the northern direction. Endowed with austerity and faith, resolute, free from attachment and doubt, he fixed his mind on Kṛṣṇa and entered Gandhamādana. Reaching Badarī-āśrama, the abode of Nara and Nārāyaṇa, he, enduring all dualities and peaceful, worshipped Hari through austerities. Meanwhile, the Lord returned to the city surrounded by Yavanas, slew the barbarian forces, and brought their wealth to Dvārakā. As the wealth was being transported with cows and men, Jarāsandha, the king with twenty-three armies, arrived, urged by Acyuta. Seeing the enemy army advancing swiftly and forcefully, the two Mādhavas, adopting human ways, quickly fled, O King. Abandoning abundant wealth, fearless though appearing afraid like cowards, they traveled many yojanas on foot with their lotus-like feet. Seeing the two fleeing, the mighty king of Magadha laughed and pursued them with his chariot divisions, unaware of their true power. After running a great distance and becoming exhausted, they climbed a high mountain called Pravarṣaṇa, where it always rains. Not finding their tracks on the mountain, the king, thinking them hidden, set fire to the mountain on all sides with burning materials. Then, leaping swiftly from the burning slope, both descended from the ten-yojana-high peak to the ground below. Unseen by the enemy and his followers, the best of the Yadus returned again to their city, protected by the ocean, O King. Believing falsely that Balarāma and Keśava had been burned, the king of Magadha withdrew his vast army and returned to Magadha. The illustrious king of Ānarta, Raivata, prompted by Brahmā, gave his daughter Raivatī to Baladeva, as previously declared. Govinda, the Lord, also married Vaidarbhī, the daughter of Bhīṣmaka and mother of Śrī, at her own svayaṃvara, O best of the Kurus. Having overpowered the kings—Śālva and the allies of Cedi—by force, before the eyes of all people, he took her as Garuḍa took the nectar. The king asked, “It is heard that the Lord married Rukmiṇī, the beautiful-faced daughter of Bhīṣmaka, by the rākṣasa rite. O Lord, I wish to hear how Krishna, of immeasurable brilliance, after conquering Jarasandha, Shalva, and others, brought the maiden as his bride. O Brahman, who indeed could ever be satiated by hearing the sacred stories of Krishna—sweet as honey, purifying the world of its impurities, ever fresh, and always new, even for those well-versed in them?” Śrī Bādarāyaṇa spoke: There was a great king named Bhīṣmaka, lord of Vidarbha; he had five sons and one daughter of exceptional beauty. The eldest was Rukmi, followed by Rukmaratha, then Rukmabāhu, Rukmakeśa, and Rukmamālī; and their virtuous sister was Rukmiṇī. Hearing, from those who came to her house, the praises of Mukunda’s beauty, valor, virtues, and glory, she considered him a worthy husband. Krishna, recognizing her intelligence, noble character, beauty, and virtues, resolved in his mind to accept her as a suitable wife. Though her relatives wished to give the princess to Krishna, her brother Rukmi, who hated Krishna, prevented it and considered Shishupala instead. Learning of this, the dark-eyed princess of Vidarbha became deeply distressed and, after careful thought, quickly sent a trusted Brahmin to Krishna.