There, before their eyes, stood a wondrous form: adorned with a radiant crown and dazzling earrings of the finest jewels, his thousand curling locks encircled by a luminous aura. Eight long, graceful arms extended from his majestic body, bearing the Kaustubha gem and marked with the auspicious Śrīvatsa, while a garland of forest flowers hung about his neck. Overwhelmed by the divine presence, Acyuta bowed to the infinite Self, and Arjuna, struck with awe, did the same. The Lord of all lords, with hands joined and a powerful, smiling voice, addressed them: “Desiring to see you both, I brought the brāhmaṇa’s sons here, for the sake of preserving righteousness on earth. You, who are incarnations of My own portion, should now return swiftly after destroying the burden of evil that weighs upon the world. Though your desires have been fulfilled, you two—Nara and Nārāyaṇa, foremost among sages—should continue to practice righteousness for the stability and welfare of all beings.” Thus instructed by the Supreme Lord, the two Kṛṣṇas, bowing with reverence and uttering “Om,” took the brāhmaṇa’s sons and, accompanied by the great Lord, departed. Filled with joy, they returned to their own abode as before, and restored the sons to the brāhmaṇa, each child returned in his proper form and age. Hearing of that divine, Vaiṣṇava realm, Pārtha—Arjuna—was utterly amazed. He recognized that whatever power or prowess is found among men is solely due to Kṛṣṇa’s compassion. Thus, Kṛṣṇa, performing many such wondrous deeds, enjoyed the pleasures of the world and conducted sacrifices that surpassed all others. At the proper times, he bestowed every desired blessing upon the people—brāhmaṇas and all others—just as Indra, when established in his glory, showers the earth with rain. Having vanquished the unrighteous kings and brought about their destruction through Arjuna and others, Kṛṣṇa quickly established dharma by means of the sons of Dharma and their kin. Śuka continued: Happily dwelling in his own city, Dvārakā—a place abundant with every prosperity—the Lord of fortune was surrounded by the foremost of the Vṛṣṇis. The city shone with women adorned in splendid attire, radiant with youthful beauty, playing with balls and games in the palaces, their brilliance like flashes of lightning. The streets bustled with life, filled with intoxicated elephants, valiant warriors, horses, and golden chariots, all splendidly decorated. In gardens and groves, rows of blossoming trees resounded with the songs of bees and birds. There, Kṛṣṇa delighted as the sole beloved of sixteen thousand wives, each in her magnificent home, each displaying wondrous forms. He sported in pure waters scented by the pollen of fully bloomed lotuses, lilies, and blue water-lilies, surrounded by the chirping of flocks of birds. Entering the waters of the lakes, his body was smeared with saffron from the embraces of his beloveds. The Gandharvas sang, drums and cymbals played joyfully, and bards, genealogists, and singers accompanied the festivities with their music. Acyuta was sprinkled by his wives, their laughter ringing out as they played, and he sported among them like the lord of the Yakṣas among Yakṣīs. Their garments soaked, their broad breasts exposed, they sprinkled him with handfuls of flowers and embraced their beloved with playful intent, their faces shining with smiles born of awakened longing. Kṛṣṇa, his chest adorned with garlands smeared with saffron, his hair loosened from play and embraces, enjoyed himself as the young women surrounded him, like an elephant among female elephants. He generously gave ornaments and garments for play to the dancers, singers, musicians, and his beloveds. As Kṛṣṇa enjoyed their company—with smiles and glances, playful jokes and embraces—the minds of the women were utterly captivated. They spoke with minds fixed solely on Mukunda, their words incoherent, like those of the intoxicated or dull-witted, always thinking of the lotus-eyed one. Hear now their words: “O kurarī, you lament through the sleepless night, never resting; the Lord of the world sleeps, hidden from our sight. Are you, like us, pierced in your heart by the generous glances and smiles of the lotus-eyed one? “O cakravākī, you close your eyes at night, unseen by your companion, and cry out plaintively. We, too, have attained servitude at Acyuta’s feet; or do you, perhaps, long for a garland for your hair? “O friend, you groan by the waters, always sleepless and awake through the night. Is it because Mukunda has taken away the mark of your soul, that you, too, suffer as we do, enduring this pain? “O Moon, your light wanes, and you cannot dispel the darkness with your rays. Like us, bewildered and speaking in broken words, have you too forgotten, and remain silent, unnoticed by us? “O wind from the Malaya mountains, have we displeased you? Pierced by Govinda’s sidelong glances, you stir in our hearts the pain of longing. “O splendid cloud, you must be dear to the chief of the Yadus; like us, you are bound by love, always meditating on him who bears the Śrīvatsa mark. Overwhelmed with longing, your heart agitated, you shed streams of tears, remembering him—such is the pain of his association. “O cuckoo, with your trembling throat, you utter words that revive the dead with their sweetness. Tell us, what can we do for you, dear one? Speak, for you seem to call out the beloved’s name. “O mountain, wise and unmoving, you seem to contemplate some great purpose. Surely, like us, you long to embrace the feet of Vasudeva’s son, holding him to your breast. “Alas, the wives of the ocean, their lakes dried up and hands parched, have lost the beauty of their lotuses, deprived of their beloved. Just as we, tormented and hearts seized by longing, suffer without the loving glance of the Lord of the bees. “O swan, welcome! Drink this water and tell us, dear one, news of Śauri. Are you his messenger? Is the unconquered one well, as he promised? Or has his affection for us wavered? Why should we serve him if he forgets us? Speak sweetly, for apart from his grace, there is no other refuge for women.” In this way, with such deep longing for Kṛṣṇa, the Lord of yogis, the women of Mādhava attained the highest state. He, whose fame is sung in great songs, even when merely heard of, forcibly attracts the minds of women—what then of those who see him directly? Those who, out of love, served the Lord of the universe as their husband by massaging his feet and other acts—what penances must they have performed to earn such fortune? Thus, by practicing the dharma taught in the Vedas, Kṛṣṇa showed the path of righteousness to householders, and repeatedly demonstrated the ideals of dharma, artha, and kāma in the home. For Kṛṣṇa, who established the supreme dharma among householders, there were sixteen thousand and more than a hundred queens. Among these, the foremost eight, led by Rukmiṇī, were the chief jewels among women, and their sons are listed in order.