In the great assembly, the sages who had perfected their austerities, knowledge, and vows—those whose impurities were destroyed by wisdom—sat established in Brahman, honored even by the guardians of the worlds. Yet, as the ceremony unfolded, a voice arose, questioning the worthiness of Krishna’s worship. “How,” it was asked, “can a cowherd, a disgrace to his lineage, surpass the lords of the assembly and deserve such honor? Just as a crow does not merit the sacred offering, so too is he unworthy. Devoid of caste, order, and family, excluded from all duties, acting as he pleases and lacking in virtues—how can such a one be worshiped?” The speaker continued, “Their lineage was cursed by Yayāti, cast out by the virtuous, ever addicted to vain drinking—how can they deserve our reverence? Abandoning lands sanctified by Brahmarṣis, lacking Brahmanical splendor, these outlaws, having taken refuge across the difficult sea, trouble the people like bandits.” Thus, many inauspicious words were spoken, the speaker’s fortune lost. But Krishna, like a lion unmoved by the howl of a jackal, answered nothing. The assembly, unable to bear such blasphemy of the Lord, covered their ears, left the hall, and angrily cursed the king of Cedi, Śiśupāla, who had uttered these words. For one who hears blasphemy of the Lord or His devotees and does not leave that place falls from virtue, even if once pious. Enraged, the sons of Pāṇḍu—along with the kings of Matsya, Kekaya, and Sṛñjaya—rose up, weapons in hand, ready to slay Śiśupāla. Yet Śiśupāla, undisturbed, took up sword and shield, rebuking the kings who sided with Krishna. At that moment, the Lord Himself, rising and restraining His own supporters, ended the matter. With His razor-edged discus, He severed the head of His enemy as Śiśupāla fell. A great tumult arose in the assembly. Śiśupāla’s followers, fearing for their lives, fled in all directions. Then, before the eyes of all, a radiant light emerged from Śiśupāla’s body and entered Vāsudeva, Krishna Himself, like a meteor falling from the sky to earth. Though Śiśupāla’s mind had been inflamed by enmity toward Krishna through three lifetimes, by meditating constantly upon Him in hate, he became absorbed in that very being—for one’s state of mind at death is the cause of future birth. The sacrifice concluded. Abundant gifts were bestowed on the officiating priests and assistants, all honored according to the prescribed rites, and the emperor performed the concluding bath of the sacrifice. Krishna, Lord of the yogis, remained for a few months at the request of His friends. At last, having taken leave of the king—though Yudhiṣṭhira wished Him to stay—the Lord, Devakī’s son, departed with His wives and ministers to His own city. Thus was recounted the tale of the two residents of Vaikuṇṭha, their repeated births caused by a brāhmaṇa’s curse. Having bathed at the conclusion of the Rājasūya sacrifice, King Yudhiṣṭhira shone in the midst of the brāhmaṇas and kṣatriyas, like the lord of the gods himself. All the gods, men, and celestial beings, honored by the king, joyfully returned to their own abodes, praising Krishna and the sacrifice. Only Duryodhana, the sinful embodiment of Kali among the Kurus, could not endure the great prosperity of Yudhiṣṭhira. Whoever recites these deeds of Viṣṇu—the slaying of Śiśupāla, the king’s liberation, and the great sacrifice—is freed from all sins. Thus ends the seventy-fourth chapter, “The Slaying of Śiśupāla,” in the Śrīmad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa, scripture for the paramahaṃsas. The king then asked, “O brāhmaṇa, when Ajātaśatru’s grand Rājasūya sacrifice was performed, all the assembled kings, gods, and men rejoiced—except for Duryodhana. Why was this so? Please tell us the reason.” Śrī Bādarāyaṇi replied: At your great ancestor’s Rājasūya sacrifice, his relatives, bound by affection, took up various duties. Bhīma oversaw the kitchen, Suyodhana managed the treasury, Sahadeva was in charge of worship, and Nakula procured the materials. Arjuna attended to the elders, Krishna Himself washed the feet, Drupada’s daughter served the food, and Karṇa, noble-hearted, distributed gifts. Yuyudhāna, Vikarṇa, Hārdikya, Vidura, the sons of Bāhlīka, Bhūri, and the Santardanas—all were assigned their tasks. Each one, eager to please the king, performed his duty with devotion. When the priests, assistants, and friends had all been honored with gifts, kind words, and proper hospitality, and when Krishna had entered the sacrificial arena after slaying Śiśupāla, they performed the concluding bath in the celestial river. The air resounded with the music of mridangas, conches, panavas, dhundhuris, anakas, and gomukhas. Joyful dancers leapt, singers sang, and the sounds of vina, flute, and clapping rose to the heavens. Kings adorned with golden garlands departed, riding elephants and chariots decorated with vibrant banners and flags, accompanied by their splendidly arrayed warriors. The Yadus, Sṛñjayas, Kambojas, Kurus, Kekayas, and Kosalas, leading their armies, shook the earth as they went. The distinguished sages, officiants, and twice-born chanted Vedic hymns, praised by gods, sages, ancestors, and gandharvas, who showered flowers upon them. Men and women, adorned with fragrant garlands, ornaments, and fine garments, playfully sprinkled each other and delighted in many pleasures. Women, anointed with oil, ghee, fragrant powders, turmeric, and saffron, playfully rubbed and enjoyed with the men. Protected by their men, the queens went out unnoticed—like divine ladies in celestial chariots. As their relatives and friends sprinkled them, their faces shone with bashful smiles. Together with their companions, these queens enthusiastically sprinkled the gods; their garments wet, their bodies and breasts exposed, garlands loosened and falling, they stirred the minds of those with impure thoughts by their charming play.