O princess of Vidarbha, Krishna spoke to Rukmini, “Perhaps you do not realize it, but you have chosen me—a man lacking in worldly qualities, praised in vain by wandering mendicants. It would be better for you to unite with a Kshatriya hero who matches your station, someone through whom you will attain true blessings in this world and the next. “Shishupala, Shalva, Jarasandha, Dantavakra, and many other kings are hostile toward me, slender-waisted one, and even your own elder brother Rukmi stands among them. Know that I brought you here only to humble the pride of those kings, intoxicated by their own strength, and to diminish their arrogance for the sake of the virtuous. “In truth, I am indifferent—neither seeking wife, children, nor pleasure. I am fulfilled in myself, and my household life is but a shadow, a ritual without light.” Having spoken thus, Krishna fell silent. He saw Rukmini as his beloved, inseparable from himself, and with these words, he ended her pride. But when the Lord of the three worlds spoke such harsh words—words she had never before heard from her beloved—Rukmini, terrified and trembling within, fell into deep, unending sorrow and wept bitterly. With her well-formed foot, its nails glowing red, she traced patterns on the ground. Her tears, darkened by collyrium, streamed down her saffron-smeared breasts. She stood, head bowed, her voice choked with intense grief. Overwhelmed by unbearable sorrow and fear, her bracelet slipped from her limp hand, her fan fell to the floor. Bewildered in body and mind, she suddenly fainted, collapsing like a plantain tree struck by the wind, her hair scattering around her. Seeing this, Krishna—bound by the ties of his beloved’s love and not fully aware of the depth of her affection—was moved to compassion. He quickly descended from his couch, gathered her hair, and gently wiped her face with his lotus hand. Tenderly, he wiped the tears from her eyes and dried her breasts, wet with sorrow, then embraced her with his arm, for she was devoted to none but him. The Lord, who knows how to console, comforted the distressed Rukmini with great compassion. Though her mind was bewildered by pride and his playful jest, she was undeserving of such sorrow. Krishna, the refuge of the virtuous, soothed her. He said, “Do not be angry, O princess of Vidarbha. I know your devotion to me. Wishing to hear your words, I acted playfully, O fair one. I longed to see your face, your lips trembling with loving excitement, your sidelong glances reddened, the beautiful curve of your frowning brows. “For those who dwell in the household, O timid and lovely one, the highest joy is to spend time in playful conversation with their beloved.” Śukadeva continued, “Thus consoled by the Lord, O King, Rukmini understood that his words were spoken in jest, and she let go of her fear of being abandoned by her beloved. Looking upon Krishna’s face, she spoke to the best of men, her glance gentle and affectionate, her smile charming with modesty.” Rukmini said, “Indeed, O lotus-eyed one, what you have said is true. How could I, so lacking in qualities and ignorant, be a fitting match for you—the Lord, master of all opulence, who delights in your own greatness? “O mighty-armed one, you dwell within all virtues, yet remain untouched by them, just as the ocean lies beneath the waves. Forever free from the senses, you assume forms for your devotees, dispelling the dense darkness of ignorance from the hearts of kings. “The path to your lotus feet, enjoyed by sages, is difficult for men and beasts to comprehend, O Lord, for your actions are beyond worldly understanding. Only those who follow you, O great one, can grasp your ways. “You are truly without possessions, for nothing exists apart from you. Even the powerful offer tribute to you. Those blinded by insatiable desire and wealth do not know you, O beloved, yet even the mighty are dear to you, and you are dear to them. “You are the embodiment of all human goals and their fruits. Wise men, desiring you, renounce everything. O Lord, your association is fitting for such men, not for those absorbed in the pleasures and pains of men and women. “Your greatness, praised by sages who have set aside anger, is the soul and giver of souls to all worlds—so I have heard. When your eyebrow signals the force of time, even Brahma and Shiva lose their blessings; what then of others? “O elder brother of Gada, though your words may seem dull, you drove away kings with the twang of your bow and took me, just as a lion seizes his share among animals. Out of fear of them, I sought refuge in the ocean. “Desiring you, O lotus-eyed one, the foremost of kings—such as Ambarisha, Nahusha, and Gaya—abandoned their kingdoms and entered the forest. Yet those who remain here—why do they not follow your path? “Who, after smelling the fragrance of your lotus feet, spoken of by the virtuous and granting liberation, would seek any other shelter? Mortal men, blinded by material pursuits, disregard the abode of Lakshmi, the treasury of virtues. “I have worshipped you, the Lord of all worlds, as is proper. You are the fulfiller of desires in this life and the next. May your feet be my sole refuge as I wander through the cycles of birth, for you surely come to those who worship you, granting freedom from falsehood. “O Acyuta, in the homes of women, men instructed by you are like donkeys, cows, horses, cats, and servants; if your stories—sung in the assemblies of Shiva and Brahma—do not reach their ears, what is the use of their lives? “A foolish woman, who has not smelled the nectar of your lotus feet, cherishes her beloved—whose body is covered with skin, hair, and nails, filled with flesh, bones, blood, worms, excrement, phlegm, bile, and wind—a living corpse. “O lotus-eyed one, may I always have devotion to your feet, for you are self-satisfied and see no one as separate from yourself. When, due to old age, the mode of passion increases in someone, and you look upon me, that alone is your supreme compassion. “O Madhusudana, I do not think your words are false. For a maiden’s love is generally for her mother, and only sometimes for another. Even for a married woman of loose character, her mind turns again and again to something new. A wise man should not keep such a faithless woman; if he does, he loses on both sides.” Then the Blessed Lord replied, “O chaste one, princess, you have been tested by me with words meant to see your desire to hear. Everything you have asked about, as I have spoken, is indeed true. “O beautiful one, whatever desires you may have, if you are devoted only to me, O auspicious lady, they are always fulfilled for you, my exclusive devotee. “O sinless one, your love for your husband and your fidelity have been proven. Even when you were agitated by my words, your mind did not waver from me. “Those who worship me in married life, with austerity and vows, but are attached to desires, are deluded by my maya, thinking of me as the lord of liberation. “Those proud ones who, after attaining me—the Lord and the wealth of liberation—still desire material prosperity and a husband, are unfortunate. Even in hell, for such people, hell is pleasant because of their attachment to their own kind. “O mistress of the house, by good fortune you have repeatedly acted in accordance with me, which is rare and liberates one from birth, even for women who are difficult to please, whose desires are hard to fulfill, and who indulge in deceit. “O proud one, I do not see in any household a wife as devoted as you, who, at the time of your own wedding, did not consider the kings who had come, but sent the brahmin who had heard my glories to me in secret.” Thus, the loving exchange between Krishna and Rukmini revealed the depth of her devotion and the Lord’s boundless compassion for his beloved.