Remembering fully the words her husband had spoken, the yakṣiṇī addressed King Ila. She questioned him gently, "Delicate one, mounted on a horse, where are you going alone? And dressed as a man, whom do you follow, O Ila?" Hearing these words directed at him, the king was overtaken by anger. He rebuked the yakṣiṇī and then turned his questioning to the deer. Yet, the yakṣiṇī persisted, saying, "O Ila, why do you keep looking at me?" Ila, bow in hand, remained seated on his horse, wary and alert. His anger flared, and, as the conqueror of the three worlds, he displayed his bow in readiness. Again, the yakṣiṇī spoke to the great-souled king Ila herself: "Look behind you, then speak to me, for I am truthful and do not speak falsely." At her words, the king looked behind and beheld her high breasts between her arms. Confusion seized him. "What is this that has happened to me?" he wondered, bewildered. He questioned her further, "What is this that has happened to me? Do you know truly? Tell me everything as it is. Who are you? Speak, O virtuous one." The yakṣiṇī replied, "In the best cave of Himavat dwells my husband, the illustrious lord of the yakṣas; I am his wife, a yakṣiṇī. In whose cave you, O king, found comfort and sat in coolness, whose yakṣa you slew in ignorance, without battle—there you were. Therefore, to leave, I took the form of a deer and entered the Umā forest; you too have entered. Long ago, Maheśvara declared: 'Whoever, out of ignorance, enters here, that man will obtain womanhood.' Thus, you have attained womanhood; do not grieve. Even the wise cannot fathom the wondrous ways of destiny." Hearing the yakṣiṇī's words, Ila, still mounted on his horse, was filled with distress. The yakṣiṇī, seeing his sorrow, comforted him: "Womanhood has indeed arisen; you must not strive to regain your manhood. Instead, learn the arts suitable for women: dance, song, adornment, feminine grace, playful ways, and all the duties of women." Accepting her fate, Ila spoke to the yakṣiṇī, "Who is to be my husband? What should I do? How can I regain my manhood? Tell me this, auspicious one, for I am afflicted by sorrow. Is there anything better than alleviating the suffering of the distressed?" The yakṣiṇī replied, "To the east of this forest lies the āśrama of Budha, the son of Soma; he always visits his father. By this very path, Budha goes to see his father Soma, the planet, and always offers his respects. When Budha, peaceful and wise, arrives, reveal yourself to him; upon seeing him, O fortunate one, you will obtain all your desires." Having thus comforted Ila, the yakṣiṇī vanished. She reported all that had happened, and the yakṣa too found happiness. Meanwhile, Ila's army settled comfortably nearby, while Ila herself, dwelling in the forest of Umā, began to sing and dance, embracing her new life. Acting as a woman, Ila often recalled the course of her actions, and sometimes, while she was performing a dance, Budha, the wise son of Soma, saw her as he journeyed to visit his father. Captivated by Ila, Budha abandoned his path and approached her, saying, "Be my wife, be at ease, and be dear to all." Ila, filled with devotion, welcomed Budha's words and acted accordingly. Remembering the yakṣiṇī's advice, she was pleased in heart. Budha, delighted by her affection, brought Ila to his excellent abode, and she, with all her heart, pleased her husband. After much time had passed, Budha, satisfied, spoke tenderly to his beloved, "What shall I give you, gentle one? Tell me what dear thing is in your mind." At that very moment, Ila replied, "Give me a son," to Budha, son of Soma, loving and dear. Budha assured her, "This is unfailing, arising from my strength and affection; therefore, you will have a son, renowned among the kṣatriyas. He will be the maker of the Soma lineage, glorious, radiant like the sun, wise like Bṛhaspati, patient like the earth. In valor in battle, he will be like Hari; in wrath, like the fire that consumes offerings." When that great-souled son of Budha was being born, cries of victory arose everywhere, even in the homes of the gods. When the son was born to Budha, the lords of the gods assembled there, and I too came, O wise one, filled with joy. As soon as the child was born, he cried out with a loud voice, and because of this, all the gathered sages and gods declared, "Since his cry was great, he shall be called Pururavas." Thus, all, with satisfied hearts, gave him this name. Budha instructed his virtuous son in the knowledge of kingship and gave him the Dhanurveda, along with its application. Pururavas grew quickly, like the waxing moon. Seeing his mother afflicted by sorrow, the wise son, humble in heart, bowed and spoke to Ila, "O mother, Budha is my father and your beloved husband; I am a dutiful son—why, then, do you have this mental anguish?" Ila replied, "Truly, son, Budha is my husband and you are a treasure of virtues; I never have any worry caused by husband or son." Yet, she added, "Still, remembering some former sorrow, I think of it again and again, O great-minded one." Thus Ila spoke to her son, her heart touched by memories of the past.