The great king, his heart awed and humbled, reflected upon the Lord who stood before him. This was the very Lord whose lotus feet are so revered that even Lakshmi, Brahma, Shiva, and the guardians of the worlds bear their dust upon their heads. This was he who, in his divine play, had built a bridge for his own purposes—how could such a mighty being ever be satisfied with someone as insignificant as himself? Yet, when the king worshipped him again, Narayana, the Lord of the universe, replied with gentle clarity, “What need have I, who am full in my own bliss, for anything meager?” Shuka continued the tale: The Blessed Lord, delighted, accepted the offered seat. His voice, deep and resonant as a raincloud, broke into a smile as he addressed the descendant of the Kurus. “O King,” said Krishna, “the wise condemn begging for a kshatriya devoted to his duty. Yet, desiring your friendship, I ask for your daughter’s hand—not for a bride-price, for we accept no such thing.” The king responded with reverence, “Who else, O Lord, could be a greater or more desirable suitor for my daughter than you, upon whose person the unfailing goddess of fortune herself dwells, and who is the sole abode of every virtue?” He then explained, “But, O best of the Sātvatas, we had previously made an agreement: to test the strength of suitors, my daughter’s hand would be won through a contest. Seven fierce and unmanageable bulls await—many princes have tried and been defeated or injured by them. If you alone, O delight of the Yadus, can subdue these bulls, then you shall be the chosen husband of my daughter, O Lord of Śrī.” Hearing of this agreement, Krishna fastened his garment and, by his divine power, multiplied himself into seven forms. With playful ease, he subdued all seven bulls. He bound them with ropes, breaking their pride and strength, and dragged them as effortlessly as a child might drag wooden toys. Amazed and overjoyed, the king gave his daughter, Satyā, to Krishna, and the Lord accepted her as his equal and beloved bride. The royal women, now blessed to call Krishna their son-in-law, rejoiced with supreme happiness, and a grand festival arose. Conch shells, kettledrums, and trumpets resounded through the air. Musicians played, singers sang, and the brāhmaṇas offered auspicious blessings. Men and women, adorned in splendid garments, garlands, and ornaments, rejoiced together. As dowry, the Lord gave ten thousand cows, and three thousand young women adorned with necklaces and fine clothes. He also bestowed nine thousand elephants, chariots a hundred times more than elephants, horses a hundred times more than chariots, and men a hundred times more than horses. The king of Kośala, his heart overflowing with affection, placed the newly-wedded couple on a chariot, surrounded them with a great army, and sent them forth with honor. But when the defeated kings, whose pride had been broken by the Yadus and the bulls, learned of this, they could not tolerate it. Seething with envy, they tried to block the procession as the maiden was being led away. Arjuna, Krishna’s dear friend and protector, wielding the mighty Gāṇḍīva bow, scattered their volleys of arrows and felled them as a lion fells lesser beasts. Thus, with the dowry received, Krishna, the foremost of the Yadus and son of Devakī, returned to Dvārakā and enjoyed happiness with Satyā. Krishna also married Bhadrā, the daughter of Śrutakīrti—his paternal aunt—a princess of the Kaikeyas, who was given to him by her brothers, including Santardana. He alone carried off Lakṣmaṇā, the daughter of the king of Madra, radiant with auspicious marks, from her svayaṃvara, just as Garuḍa seized nectar from the gods. In this way, thousands of charming wives, all of noble appearance, became Krishna’s after he had slain Bhauma and rescued them from captivity. At this, the king inquired, “O sage, tell me how Bhauma was slain by the Lord, and how those women, who had been confined, were rescued by the wielder of Śārṅga.” Shuka replied: When Indra had taken away his umbrella, earrings, and companions, and his place on the mountain of the gods had been usurped, Krishna, informed of the deeds of the earth-born Bhauma, mounted Garuḍa with his wife and set out for the city of Prāgjyotiṣa. That city was surrounded on all sides by formidable mountain fortresses, weapon fortresses, and barriers of water, fire, and wind, as well as the fierce and strong bonds of the demon Mura. Krishna shattered the mountains with his mace, destroyed the weapon fortresses with his arrows, overcame the barriers of fire, water, and wind with his discus, and cut through the bonds of Mura with his sword. With the blast of his conch, he broke both the machines and the spirits of the proud defenders; with his mighty mace, Gadādhara smashed the ramparts. The sound of Pāñcajanya, terrifying as the thunder at the end of an age, awakened Mura, the five-headed demon, from the waters where he lay. Brandishing a dreadful trident, blazing like the sun and the fire of destruction, Mura rushed at Krishna and Garuḍa with his five mouths, like a serpent attacking its prey. He hurled his trident at Garuḍa and let out a roar that filled the heavens, all directions, and the cosmic egg itself. The trident struck Garuḍa, but Hari broke it with two arrows of triple power and shot arrows into each of Mura’s five mouths. Enraged, Mura hurled his mace, but Krishna, master of maces, shattered it with his own, splitting it into a thousand pieces. Raising his arms, the unconquered Lord rushed forward and, with playful ease, severed all five of Mura’s heads with his discus. Headless, Mura’s life departed and his body fell into the water like a mountain whose peak has been cut off by Indra’s thunderbolt. His seven sons—Tāmra, Antarikṣa, Śravaṇa, Vibhāvasu, Vasu, Nabhasvān, and Aruṇa—placed their commander Pīṭha in front and, armed for battle, advanced in wrath, sent by the earth-born Bhauma. They hurled arrows, swords, maces, spears, javelins, and tridents at Krishna, but the Lord, whose power never fails, cut their weapons to pieces with his own arrows. With his flying discus and arrows, he severed their heads, arms, legs, and armor, sending them, along with Pīṭha, to the abode of Yama. Thus, Naraka, the earth-born, was defeated. Witnessing this, Durmarṣaṇa, filled with pride, attacked with elephants born from the ocean. Seeing Krishna and his wife seated upon Garuḍa, shining like the sun on a raincloud with lightning, he hurled a weapon meant to slay a hundred foes, and all his warriors attacked at once. Krishna, elder of maces, struck down the earth-born army with wondrous steeds and sharp arrows, cutting off their arms, thighs, heads, and bodies, and at that moment slew their horses and elephants. Whatever weapons and missiles the warriors launched, Hari cut them down, each with sharp arrows and sword-bearing shafts. Garuḍa, the mighty Suparṇa, struck the elephants with his wings, beak, and claws, slaying them in battle as Krishna vanquished all opposition, rescuing the captive women and restoring righteousness.