The Lord spoke with gentle assurance, “Roam this earth as you wish, ever absorbed in thought of Me. May your devotion to Me remain unwavering, never faltering. Though you have fulfilled the duties of a warrior—sometimes taking life in the hunt and on the battlefield—by embracing this path of austerity and seeking refuge in Me, you shall cast off all sin. In your next birth, O king, you will be born as the best among the twice-born, a supreme friend to all beings, and you will surely attain Me alone.” Śuka continued, “Thus blessed by Kṛṣṇa, the noble son of Ikṣvāku respectfully circumambulated the Lord, bowed low, and departed from the mouth of the cave. As he journeyed, he observed the smallness of the humans, animals, herbs, and trees, and, recognizing that the age of Kali had arrived, he turned his steps northward. Endowed with austerity and faith, resolute and free from all attachment and doubt, he fixed his mind on Kṛṣṇa and entered the Gandhamādana mountains. Reaching the sacred Badarī-āśrama, the abode of Nara and Nārāyaṇa, he endured all dualities with a peaceful mind and worshipped Hari through intense austerities. Meanwhile, the Lord returned to the city besieged by the Yavanas, destroyed their forces, and brought their wealth back to Dvārakā. As this wealth was being transported, accompanied by cows and men, Jarāsandha—urged on by Acyuta—arrived with his army of twenty-three divisions. Seeing this vast force advancing swiftly, the two Mādhavas, taking on the ways of ordinary men, fled quickly, O King. Though they abandoned great riches and appeared afraid, their hearts were fearless as they journeyed many yojanas on foot, their lotus-like feet treading the earth. The powerful king of Magadha, Jarāsandha, laughed as he saw them flee and eagerly pursued with his chariot divisions, unaware of their true might. After a long chase, when the two had become weary, they climbed a high mountain called Pravarṣaṇa, where rain falls perpetually. Unable to find their tracks, Jarāsandha assumed they were hiding and set fire to the mountain on all sides. Swiftly, the two leapt from the burning slopes, descending from the ten-yojana-high peak to the ground below. Unseen by their enemies, the best of the Yadus returned to their city, protected by the ocean. Believing that Balarāma and Keśava had perished in the flames, Jarāsandha withdrew his vast army and returned to Magadha. In due course, the illustrious king of Ānarta, Raivata, prompted by Brahmā, gave his daughter Raivatī to Baladeva, as was destined. Govinda, the Lord, also married Vaidarbhī, the daughter of Bhīṣmaka and mother of Śrī, at her own svayaṃvara. Overpowering the kings—Śālva and the allies of Cedi—by force, before the eyes of all, he claimed her as Garuḍa would take the nectar. The king then asked, “It is said that the Lord married Rukmiṇī, the beautiful daughter of Bhīṣmaka, by the rākṣasa rite. I wish to hear how Kṛṣṇa, of immeasurable brilliance, after conquering Jarāsandha, Śālva, and others, brought the maiden as his bride. O Brahman, who could ever tire of hearing the sacred stories of Kṛṣṇa, sweet as honey, purifying the world, ever fresh and new, even to 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 son was Rukmi, followed by Rukmaratha, Rukmabāhu, Rukmakeśa, and Rukmamālī; their virtuous sister was Rukmiṇī. Hearing from visitors to her home of Mukunda’s beauty, valor, virtues, and glory, Rukmiṇī considered him the only worthy husband for herself. Kṛṣṇa, recognizing her intelligence, noble character, beauty, and virtues, decided in his heart that she was a suitable wife. Though her relatives wished to give the princess to Kṛṣṇa, her brother Rukmi, who bore enmity towards the Lord, prevented this and instead considered Śiśupāla as her husband. Learning of this, the dark-eyed princess was deeply distressed. After careful thought, she quickly sent a trusted Brahmin to Kṛṣṇa. The Brahmin arrived in Dvārakā, was admitted by the doorkeepers, and saw the Supreme Person seated upon a golden throne. Seeing the Brahmin, the Lord of devotees rose from his seat, honored him, and seated him with the respect due to the gods themselves. After the Brahmin had eaten and rested, Kṛṣṇa, the refuge of the righteous, approached him, touched his feet, and inquired with care: ‘O best of Brahmins, is your dharma, esteemed by elders, proceeding without great difficulty? Is your mind always content?’ He continued, ‘Whenever a Brahmin, content with whatever comes his way, remains steadfast in his duty, he fulfills all desires. Even the lord of gods, if discontent, wanders among worlds, but one who is content, though possessing nothing, sleeps free from all affliction. I bow my head to those Brahmins who are content with what they receive, virtuous, the best friends to all beings, humble, and peaceful. O Brahman, is all well with you? For the king whose subjects live happily under his protection is dear to Me. Since you have come here, crossing many hardships, tell me everything, especially if there is anything confidential—what should I do for you?’ Thus respectfully questioned by the Supreme Lord, who had assumed a form for his pastimes, the Brahmin narrated everything to him. He conveyed Rukmiṇī’s words: ‘O beauty of the worlds, having heard of Your virtues, which remove the distress of those who listen, my mind, shamelessly, has entered into You through the channels of my ears. Beholding Your form, which fulfills all desires for those who see, my heart is utterly captivated, O infallible one.