With deep reverence, Krishna bowed his head in honor of the Brahmins who, content with what they received, lived virtuously, as gentle friends to all beings—humble and peaceful at heart. Addressing the Brahmin before him, Krishna inquired kindly, “O Brahman, is all well with you? For a king whose subjects thrive happily under his care is especially dear to me.” He continued, “Since you have come here, enduring many hardships as you wished, please tell me everything, especially if there is anything confidential. What can I do for you?” Respectfully questioned by the Supreme Lord—who had assumed a human form for his divine pastimes—the Brahmin began to relate all that had transpired. He conveyed a message from Rukmiṇī, the princess of Vidarbha. She poured out her heart, saying, “O beauty of the worlds, having heard of Your virtues, which dispel the sorrows of all who listen, my mind—without shame—has entered into You through the channels of my ears. Beholding Your form, the very fulfillment of all desires for those who see it, my heart is utterly captivated. “O Mukunda, what noble maiden of discerning mind would not choose You as her husband? You, who stand alone in lineage, character, beauty, knowledge, youth, wealth, and glory; You, who delight the minds of all, O lion among men! Therefore, O Lord, I have chosen You as my husband—please accept me. I have offered myself to You. Let not the king of Cedi, like a jackal snatching the lion’s rightful share, lay claim to what belongs to the hero, O lotus-eyed one. “If the Supreme Lord, elder brother of Gada, is truly pleased with my devotion—shown through charity, sacrifice, vows, rituals, and service to gods, Brahmins, and elders—then let Him come and take my hand, not the son of Damaghoṣa or anyone else. “Tomorrow, O unconquered one, when You come to Vidarbha to wed, come concealed, surrounded by Your chiefs, and overpower the forces of Cedi and Magadha. Win me, whose bride-price is valor, according to the custom of the Rākṣasas. “If You wonder how I, guarded within the inner chambers by my relatives, can be married by You, I will tell You the way: On the day before the wedding, there is a grand procession to the family goddess, when the new bride steps outside to worship Girijā. “The great souls long to bathe in the dust of Your lotus feet, just as Lord Umā’s consort does to destroy his own darkness. O lotus-eyed one, if I do not obtain Your favor, let me give up this life—emaciated by vows—over hundreds of births.” The Brahmin concluded, “Thus, I have brought these secret words from the princess of the Yadus. Consider what must be done, and then act accordingly.” Hearing this message from the princess of Vidarbha, Krishna, the son of the Yadus, took the Brahmin by the hand and smiled, replying, “I too am unable to sleep at night, my mind absorbed in her. I know that Rukmiṇī’s marriage to me was prevented by her brother, out of enmity. I will bring her here, seizing her from the assembly of kings in battle—she who is devoted to me, flawless in form, like the sacred fire’s flame.” Aware of the auspicious time for Rukmiṇī’s wedding, Krishna instructed his charioteer, “Dāruka, quickly yoke the chariot.” Dāruka brought forth the chariot, yoked with the noble horses Śaibya, Sugrīva, Meghapuṣpa, and Balāhaka, and stood ready with joined palms. Krishna mounted the chariot, seated the Brahmin beside him, and, with swift steeds, journeyed from Ānarta to Vidarbha in a single night. Meanwhile, the king of Kuṇḍina, out of deep affection for his son, began the wedding preparations to give his daughter to Śiśupāla. The city was thoroughly cleansed and sprinkled, its roads and crossroads adorned with colorful flags, banners, and arches. Men and women, dressed in spotless garments and adorned with garlands, fragrant flowers, and ornaments, filled the splendid houses, which were perfumed with aguru incense. The king honored the ancestors, gods, and Brahmins, feeding them according to custom and having auspicious rites recited. The beautiful maiden, freshly bathed and adorned for the ceremony, was dressed in the finest garments and ornaments. The foremost Brahmins performed protective rites for the bride, chanting from the Sama, Rig, and Yajur Vedas, while the chief priest, versed in the Atharva Veda, offered oblations to pacify planetary influences. The king, ever dutiful, gave gold, silver, garments, sesame mixed with jaggery, and cows to the Brahmins. At the same time, King Damaghoṣa, lord of Cedi, arranged everything for his son’s prosperity, employing experts in mantras. With intoxicated elephants, golden chariots, and armies crowded with infantry and horses, he proceeded to Kuṇḍina. The king of Vidarbha welcomed him with honor and settled him comfortably. There arrived also Shalva, Jarasandha, Dantavaktra, Viduratha, and thousands of allies from Chedi and Paundra—enemies of Krishna and Rama—who had come determined to secure the maiden for the Chedi prince and were resolved to fight if Krishna and the Yadus attempted to take her. All the kings, with their armies and vehicles, gathered together, their minds fixed on battle. Hearing of this formidable assembly, Lord Balarama, fearing conflict, learned that Krishna had gone alone to take the maiden. Filled with affection for his brother, he quickly set out for Kuṇḍina with a great force of elephants, horses, chariots, and infantry. Meanwhile, the princess of Bhishmaka, noble in form and longing for Hari’s arrival, saw no sign of him and pondered the words of the Brahmin: “Alas, three nights have passed since my wedding was arranged, though I am blameless. The lotus-eyed one does not come, and I do not know why. The Brahmin who carried my message has not returned even today. “Perhaps, seeing some fault in me, the faultless one now hesitates to take my hand, though he once resolved to do so. My fate is unfortunate; the creator is not favorable to me, nor is Shiva, nor Gauri, Rudrani, Girija, or Sati.” Thus, her mind absorbed in thoughts of Govinda, the young maiden reflected on time and closed her tear-filled eyes. As she awaited Govinda’s coming, her left thigh, arm, and eye—beloved for their auspicious signs—began to tremble. Then, as Krishna had instructed, that very foremost Brahmin came and beheld the princess, who was moving within the inner chambers.