After a victorious campaign, the great king returned to the revered realm of the gods. Upon his return, he was greeted by Vasiṣṭha, the chief priest, who offered him wise counsel. Yet, when the king learned of Urvaśī’s departure, he was plunged into deep sorrow. He ceased making offerings, refused food, and withdrew from all activity; he neither listened nor looked upon anything, overcome by grief. Seeing the king’s despondency, Vasiṣṭha, the chief priest, approached him as he lay as if lifeless, and spoke words of reason to rouse him. “She is gone, O noble king; do not grieve. In such a state, let not inauspicious forces swiftly overtake you. You do not know the hearts of women, O wise king; they are as unpredictable as jackals. Therefore, O ruler, do not sorrow. Who in this world, O king of kings, has not been deceived by women? Deceitfulness, cruelty, fickleness, and cunning are their nature. Such is their inherent disposition—how can they be sources of happiness? Who has not been ruined by time? Who, seeking honor, has truly attained it? Who has not been led astray by fortune or harmed by women? For those whose minds are intoxicated, reality itself appears as a dream or illusion, O king. For whom are women truly a source of happiness? Knowing this, be free from fever, O wise king. Apart from Śaṃkara, Viṣṇu, or the Ganges, there is no other refuge for the sorrowful in all three worlds.” Hearing these words, the king diligently overcame his sorrow. Aila, supremely righteous, took refuge in the midst of the Ganges. There, with great devotion, he worshipped Śiva, Janārdana, Brahmā, the Sun, Gaṅgā, and other deities. For those who, having fallen into misfortune, neglect to serve holy places or deities, what state will they attain, being subject to time? But he who takes refuge in the one Lord, eager to serve Gautamī, who has attained supreme faith and renounced worldly attachments— Aila performed many sacrifices with priests, giving abundant gifts. Thus, he became a veritable island of Vedic rites, and for this reason, the place is called Yajñadvīpa. On the night of the full moon, Urvaśī herself comes there; whoever circumambulates that island in reverence at that time, it is as though they have circled the earth with its oceans and sky. There, the remembrance of the Vedas and of sacrifices flourishes. Whoever performs meritorious acts there obtains the fruit of Vedic sacrifices; know that place as Ailatīrtha, and it is also called Purūrava. It is also known as Vāsiṣṭha, and called the division of the channel; under King Aila, no division of the channel occurred in any of the rites. Yet, this division of the channel at Urvaśī’s place was also completed by Vasiṣṭha and by Gaṅgā. Thus, the division of the channel became a source of success for both manifest and hidden desires; there, it is said, are seven hundred excellent holy places. Bathing and giving gifts there bestow the fruit of all sacrifices; after bathing at the channel’s division, whoever beholds these gods—here or hereafter—will suffer no decline at the channel. Having attained all exaltation, he rejoices in heaven like Indra. Now, the holy place known as Nandītaṭa is renowned among those learned in the Vedas. Let me declare its greatness—listen carefully, O Nārada. The mighty son of Atri, Candramas, properly studied all the Vedas and the science of archery as prescribed. Having learned all knowledge from Jīva, Candramas declared, “I will honor my teacher.” Bṛhaspati, pleased, spoke to his disciple Candra, saying, “Know that my beloved is Tārā, radiant as Rati.” Then Candramas entered the house to speak with her; seeing Tārā, whose face shone like a star, he took her by the hand. Driven by desire, he forcibly drew her towards his own dwelling. That ocean of patience, wise, intelligent, and self-controlled—so long as a man is not ensnared by the net of a woman’s desirous glances, he does not seek out a woman with long, inviting eyes in a private place. Yet, upon seeing such a woman, whose mind does not become subject to desire? For this reason, a virtuous woman should never gaze upon another man. A woman of good family, fearing for her virtue, should conduct her private affairs with care; if discovered by attendants, she should immediately rise and depart. Witnessing this wrongful act, Bṛhaspati, noble-minded, cursed Candramas in anger and reproached him harshly for his misdeed. Who, upon seeing his beloved taken by another, could bear it, even if he were a lord? Even the god Candra, out of anger, fought with Bṛhaspati for her. The moon is not destroyed by curses, nor by weapons, nor by the spells of the gods; nor is the moon slain by the mantras composed by Bṛhaspati. Then Candra took Tārā and established her in his palace, enjoying her company for many years, and also, without fear, Rohiṇī. At that time, he could not be overcome by the gods, nor by anger, curses, or spells; not by kings, nor by sages, nor by conciliation, division, or punishment. When the guru could not regain his wife despite every effort and all possible means being exhausted, Jīva remembered the path of policy. A wise person, putting aside honor and accepting humiliation, pursues his own interest; for the loss of one’s own interest is indeed folly. Those who know, by any means, should accomplish their goal; the vain and deluded quickly come to ruin. Having resolved thus, the wise one went to Śukra and informed him; the poet, knowing he had come, welcomed him with honor.