As Mādhava entered the assembly, his eyes fell upon the sūta, who remained seated and did not rise or offer respectful folded hands. The brāhmaṇas, too, sat unmoved. Mādhava’s anger was kindled as he witnessed this disregard. He thought, “This low-born man sits above the brāhmaṇas—the protectors of dharma—and above us as well. Such wicked-mindedness deserves death.” Though the sūta had become a disciple of the divine sage and had thoroughly studied many histories, Purāṇas, and all the dharma-śāstras, Mādhava reflected that for one undisciplined and unrestrained, who vainly considers himself learned, such knowledge is of no virtue—like an actor who has not mastered himself. “Indeed,” Mādhava declared, “I have descended into this world for this very purpose: those who wear the guise of dharma yet are most sinful must be slain by me.” Having spoken thus, the Lord refrained from killing the wicked, but in contemplation, he struck the sūta with a blade of kuśa grass held in his hand. The sages, distressed in their minds, cried out in lamentation, “O Lord Saṅkarṣaṇa, you have committed a wrongful act! O descendant of Yadu, we had granted him the seat of Brahmā, and life and freedom from fatigue for the duration of this sacrifice. Unknowingly, you have committed brahma-hatya, O master of yoga; even your name is not exempt from the law. If this act will purify the sin of brahma-hatya, O purifier of the worlds, then you yourself should undertake whatever expiation is proper, without being prompted by another.” The Blessed Lord replied, “I shall perform the prescribed expiation for the killing, desiring the welfare of the world; let the same rule be established as in the first age. Long life, strength, and senses were indeed promised to him; what you have spoken, I shall accomplish by my yogic power.” The sages responded, “Let it be so, O Rāma, that your word, and the power of your weapon, and death for us, all remain true.” The Lord said, “The self is indeed born as the son—so declares the Veda; therefore, let his son be the speaker, endowed with life, senses, and strength. What is your wish, O best of sages? Speak, and I shall do it. Consider well, O wise ones, how I may atone for my unknowing act.” The sages then said, “There is a fierce demon named Balvala, son of Ilvala; he comes at every festival and defiles our sacrifice. O descendant of Daśārha, slay that wicked one for us—that is our highest wish. He showers pus, blood, excrement, urine, liquor, and flesh upon us. Then, having left the land of Bharata with a steady mind, after wandering for twelve months and bathing at holy places, you will become purified.” Later, King Parīkṣit addressed the venerable sage, saying, “O master, I wish to hear other heroic deeds of Mukunda, the great soul whose power is infinite. O brāhmaṇa, who, having heard the sacred stories of the praiseworthy Lord even once, would cease listening—except one deeply afflicted by the arrows of desire and ignorant of their true worth? That speech by which one praises His qualities, those hands that perform His deeds, that mind which remembers Him dwelling among all beings, and those ears that hear His holy stories—these alone are truly speech, hands, mind, and ears. That head is truly a head which bows to Him who bears both forms; those eyes alone see which behold Him; those limbs are truly limbs which always serve the water that has washed the feet of Viṣṇu or His devotees.” Sūta replied, “Thus questioned by Viṣṇurāta, the blessed son of Badarāyaṇa, whose heart was immersed in Lord Vāsudeva, spoke.” Śuka then narrated: “Kṛṣṇa had a brāhmaṇa friend, most learned in the Veda, detached from sense pleasures, peaceful in mind, and self-controlled. Living as a householder, sustaining himself with whatever came by chance, his wife, thin from hunger, was just like him—her clothing in tatters. This devoted wife, her face pale, approached her suffering husband, trembling, and spoke: ‘O brāhmaṇa, is not the Lord, the husband of Śrī herself, your friend? He is devoted to the brāhmaṇas, the refuge of all, and the exalted Lord of the Sātvatas. Go to Him, O blessed one, who is the supreme shelter of the virtuous. He will surely give abundant wealth to you, the householder, who is in distress. He now resides in Dvārakā as the Lord of the Bhojas, Vṛṣṇis, and Andhakas. Even as He remembers His lotus feet, He offers Himself to His devotees. Why would the teacher of the world not grant the desired objects, even those not sought, to one who worships Him?’” Thus, repeatedly entreated gently by his wife, the brāhmaṇa thought, “Indeed, the greatest gain is to see the Lord praised in the highest hymns.” Thinking thus, he resolved to go. “Is there any gift at home, O good lady? Let something be given.” She begged four handfuls of flat rice from the brāhmaṇas, tied them in a piece of cloth, and gave them to her husband as a gift. Taking them, the foremost brāhmaṇa set out for Dvārakā, thinking, “How might I obtain a vision of Kṛṣṇa?” Passing through three enclosures and three courtyards, he entered the homes of the Andhakas and Vṛṣṇis, who followed the path of the infallible Lord. He entered one of the houses of Hari’s sixteen thousand queens and, as if attaining divine bliss, was filled with joy. Seeing him from afar, Acyuta, who was seated on his beloved’s couch, immediately rose up, approached, and joyfully embraced him with both arms. Delighted by the touch of his dear friend, the sage among the twice-born, the lotus-eyed Lord, overwhelmed with joy, shed tears from his eyes. Then, after seating his friend upon the couch, Kṛṣṇa himself performed the proper honors for him, bringing water and washing his feet with his own hands. O King, the Lord, purifier of the worlds, respectfully took the water with his head and anointed his guest with divine fragrances of sandalwood, aguru, and saffron. With fragrant incense and rows of lamps, he worshipped his friend with joy, offered him betel nut, and, after presenting a cow, spoke words of welcome.