O Lord, you have descended into this world for the protection of the virtuous and the subjugation of the wicked. Who could possibly transgress your command, O master? And who, indeed, attains the fruit of their actions by their own effort? Such things remain unknown to us. The happiness of kings, O Lord, is as fleeting and insubstantial as a dream, forever dependent on others. We live under the constant burden of fear, bearing the yoke of a life that is little better than death. Forsaking the inner joy that comes from you—a happiness that is free of anxiety and easily attained—we suffer greatly. How pitiable we are, deluded by your māyā in this world. Therefore, we beseech you—whose feet remove the sorrows of those who seek refuge—to release us from the fetters of the Magadhan king’s deeds. You alone, endowed with the strength of ten thousand elephants, restrained that king who, like a lion among beasts, had confined us in his palace. That king, proud and intent on conquering the world, was repeatedly defeated by you, O Lord of infinite power, when you broke his noble disc in battle twenty-two times. Yet now he oppresses your people. O unconquered one, please act accordingly. The messenger continued: Thus, held captive by the Magadhan and longing for your presence, these kings have taken refuge at your feet. Please grant well-being to these afflicted souls. As the royal messenger spoke, the divine sage Nārada suddenly appeared, radiant and bearing tawny matted locks, shining forth like the sun itself. Upon seeing him, Bhagavān Kṛṣṇa—the Lord of all lords—rose with his assembly and followers, and, filled with joy, bowed his head in respect. Kṛṣṇa honored Nārada properly, offering him a seat and addressing him with pleasing words, satisfying the sage with faith and reverence. He inquired, “Is all well today among the three worlds, and are they free from fear? Surely, the virtue of the Lord increases as you travel among the worlds. Nothing is unknown to you, O Lord among creators. Therefore, we ask: what do the Pāṇḍavas intend?” Śrī Nārada replied, “O Lord, I have witnessed your māyā many times—so difficult to overcome, O Master, Creator of the universe, wielder of māyā. As you move among beings with your own powers, your glory is hidden, like fire concealed in wood; thus, nothing surprises me. Who, indeed, is fit to know your actions here, as you create and withdraw this world by your own māyā? Whatever appears to exist is but a reflection of understanding. I bow to you, whose nature is beyond all distinctions. He who grants liberation to the soul wandering in saṃsāra, who knows not the suffering brought by the body—He, who by his playful descents kindles his own fame—I take refuge in him, who dispels all darkness. Yet, O Brahman, I shall relate what is intended by the king, your devotee, the son of your paternal aunt, as he prepares to perform a deed that will amaze the world. The son of Pāṇḍu, desiring the status of Brahmā, will worship you with the Rājasūya sacrifice, O Lord. May you be pleased by this. At that supreme sacrifice, O God, you will be seen by the gods and other illustrious kings, who will assemble there out of eagerness. By hearing, singing, or meditating upon you, O Lord of Brahman, even those who dwell near are purified—how much more so those who see or touch you? The pure fame of your feet is renowned in heaven, on earth, and in the netherworld. The sacred water that flows from your feet—called Mandākinī in heaven, Bhogavatī below, and Gaṅgā here—sanctifies the entire universe. May that water, flowing from your feet, bless all the worlds.” Śuka then said: As those on his side grew eager for conquest, Keśava smiled and, with sweet words, addressed his beloved servant Uddhava: “You are indeed our supreme eye, a true friend who knows the essence and purpose of counsel. Therefore, speak here what should be done; we have faith and shall act accordingly.” Though all-knowing, Uddhava humbly accepted his master’s command, bowed his head, and replied. Śuka continued: Hearing these words of the divine sage, Uddhava—wise among the wise—after understanding the opinion of the assembly and of Kṛṣṇa, spoke as follows: “O Lord, as the sage has said, you should act as an advisor for the sacrifice, protect your paternal cousin, and shelter those who seek refuge. The Rājasūya sacrifice should be performed by you, O mighty one, as conqueror of the quarters; thus, the defeat of Jarāsandha serves both purposes, in my view. For us, too, a great benefit will arise from this, O Govinda, and your fame will increase by freeing the kings who are imprisoned. That king is truly hard to overcome, equal in strength to ten thousand elephants, and among the strong, none can match him except Bhīma. He must be defeated in single combat, not by an army of a hundred divisions; he is devoted to Brāhmaṇas and never refuses a request from them. Let Vṛkodara, disguised as a Brāhmaṇa, go and beg from him; he will surely kill him in single combat in your presence—there is no doubt. The Supreme Lord is the cause for both the creation and destruction of the universe; Hiraṇyagarbha and Śarva are forms of your timeless power. Your pure deeds are sung in the homes of the gods: the slaying of the enemies of kings, the liberation of your own self, by the Gopīs, the wives of the elephant-lord, the daughters of Janaka, your parents who found refuge in you, the sages, and by us. O Kṛṣṇa, the killing of Jarāsandha will serve many purposes; and the sacrifice you desire will be accomplished as a result of this act.” Śuka said: Thus, O King, all honored Uddhava’s words, which were auspicious in every way for Acyuta—the divine sage, the elders of the Yadus, and Kṛṣṇa himself. Then the Lord, son of Devakī, gave orders to depart. He took leave of his elders and instructed his servants—Dāruka, Jaitra, and others. The mighty one prepared for the journey. He sent forth his own women, sons, and attendants, took leave of Saṅkarṣaṇa and the Yadu king, the destroyer of enemies, and ascended his chariot bearing the Garuḍa emblem, which was brought by the charioteer. Surrounded by his own army—commanders of chariots, elephants, infantry, and cavalry—he set out, the quarters resounding with the blare of mṛdaṅgas, kettle-drums, conches, and trumpets. With their sons, the virtuous wives, adorned in fine garments, ornaments, unguents, and garlands, followed Acyuta, their lord, riding in golden palanquins and chariots, well-guarded by men bearing swords and shields. Men, camels, cows, buffaloes, donkeys, horses, and chariots, along with elephants, attendants, and noble women—all adorned with bangles, armlets, blankets, and garments, carrying their belongings—set out in every direction. The army, with great banners, cloth canopies, parasols, and fans, bearing splendid weapons, ornaments, crowns, and armor, shone with the brilliance of the sun, its tumultuous roar like the ocean stirred by mighty whales and waves. Then the sage, honored by the lord of the Yadus, bowed to him, fixing him in his heart, and departed through the sky. Hearing his resolve, Mukunda—whose senses were satisfied by the sight of the Lord—brought forth the proper offerings. Thus concludes the seventieth chapter, entitled “Inquiry into Divine Knowledge,” in the second half of the Tenth Book of the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, the scripture for the paramahaṃsas.