Having conquered all directions and assumed a form as vast as the earth itself, a mighty king sat upon a resplendent throne, honored by other rulers. Yet even such a conqueror, O Lord, was led—like a mere plaything—into the pleasures of home by the allure of women, much like a beast drawn into sport for their amusement. Even those who perform great deeds, steadfast in austerity, renouncing enjoyment and giving charity as prescribed, find themselves longing again, “May I be a sovereign king,” and with ever-growing thirst, they do not attain true happiness. But when, after wandering through the endless cycles of worldly existence, a person finally attains liberation, O Infallible One, it is then that he gains the association of the virtuous. And when such company is found, at that very moment, devotion to You—the Lord of all—arises in his heart. O Lord, I see it as Your special favor upon me that, by Your grace, my attachment to kingdom has been removed. This detachment is so rare and precious that even the virtuous, who long to enter the forest, renounce their vast domains in pursuit of it. O Master, I desire no boon except the privilege of serving at Your feet, which is sought even by those who possess nothing in this world. For who, after worshiping You—the giver of liberation—would choose any other boon that merely binds the soul further? Therefore, O Lord, abandoning all desires, whether born of passion, ignorance, or even goodness, I approach You—the pure, qualityless, nondual Supreme Person, pure consciousness itself. Long have I been tormented here by suffering and remorse, beset by enemies such as insatiable thirst, never finding peace. Yet now, by some fortune, I have come to Your lotus feet, O Supreme Shelter. Protect me, O Lord, who am helpless—grant me fearlessness, immortality, and freedom from sorrow. The Blessed Lord then spoke: “O great king, ruler of the earth, your mind is pure and steadfast. Even when tempted by boons, it has not been disturbed by desires. Know that this tempting was only to test your vigilance, for 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, again rises up, even after it is controlled by breath and other means. Therefore, roam the earth as you wish, with your mind absorbed in Me; may you always have unwavering devotion to Me. “Though, as a warrior, you have slain creatures in hunting and other ways, by being intent on this austerity and taking refuge in Me, you will cast off all sin. In your next birth, O king, you will become the best of twice-born, a supreme friend to all beings, and you will attain Me alone.” Śuka continued: Thus, O dear one, having been so favored by Krishna, the son of Ikṣvāku circumambulated Him, bowed down, and departed from the mouth of the cave. As he emerged, he observed the small humans, animals, herbs, and trees, and realized that the age of Kali had arrived. Turning his heart northward, he journeyed in that direction. Endowed with austerity and faith, resolute, free from attachment and doubt, he fixed his mind on Krishna and entered the region of Gandhamādana. Reaching Badarī-āśrama, the sacred abode of Nara and Nārāyaṇa, he endured all dualities, remained peaceful, and worshipped Hari through austerities. Meanwhile, the Lord returned again to the city surrounded by Yavanas, slew those barbarian forces, and brought their wealth to Dvārakā. As the wealth was being transported, along with cows and men, Jarāsandha, the king with twenty-three armies, arrived, urged on by Acyuta. Seeing the enemy army advancing swiftly and forcefully, the two Mādhavas—Krishna and Balarāma—adopted human ways and quickly fled, O King. Though they appeared afraid, abandoning abundant wealth, they were fearless; with their lotus-like feet, they traveled many yojanas on foot. 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, Krishna and Balarāma climbed a high mountain called Pravarṣaṇa, where it always rains. Unable to find their tracks on the mountain, Jarāsandha believed they were hiding, so he set fire to the mountain on all sides. Then, leaping swiftly from the burning slope, both brothers 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, which was 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 his own land. At this time, the illustrious king of Ānarta, Raivata, prompted by Brahmā, gave his daughter Raivatī to Baladeva, as had been 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. King Parīkṣit then said: “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 Jarāsandha, Śālva, and others, brought the maiden as his bride. For who could ever be satiated by hearing the sacred stories of Krishna—sweet as honey, purifying the world, ever fresh and always new, even for those well-versed in them?” Śrī Bādarāyaṇa replied: There was a great king named Bhīṣmaka, lord of Vidarbha, who had five sons and one daughter of exceptional beauty. The eldest was Rukmi, followed by Rukmaratha, then Rukmabāhu, Rukmakeśa, and Rukmamālī; their virtuous sister was Rukmiṇī. Hearing from those who visited her house of Mukunda’s beauty, valor, virtues, and glory, Rukmiṇī considered Krishna a worthy husband. Krishna, recognizing her intelligence, noble character, beauty, and virtues, resolved in his mind to accept her as his 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. After careful thought, she quickly sent a trusted Brahmin to Krishna. The Brahmin reached Dvārakā and, admitted by the doorkeepers, saw the Supreme Person seated upon a golden throne.