He is dark as a fresh raincloud, his eyes radiant like lotuses blooming in the autumn. His beauty surpasses that of countless Cupids; he is the very embodiment of playful charm, captivating all who behold him. With two arms, he holds a flute in his hand, and he is adorned in garments of brilliant yellow silk. Sometimes, he is surrounded by the cowherd maidens, especially in the seclusion of the forest. At other times, he appears dressed as a cowherd himself, encircled by the cowherd boys. He tends to herds of wish-fulfilling cows, taking on the delightful form of a child. The music from his flute is sweet beyond measure, enchanting the hearts of the gopīs. He is the beloved of Lakṣmī, served by attendants who possess four arms. On the White Island, he reveals himself in the form of Viṣṇu, worshipped by Padmā. He also assumes the form of Śiva, bestower of all auspiciousness, manifesting as Śiva by his own portion. Truly, he is the great cosmic form, within whose hairs the countless universes reside. He bears countless incarnations, being the eternal seed from which they all arise. He is the very life of all living beings, the supreme soul, the Lord of all. Yet, he remains unperceivable and unattached, the essence beyond the grasp of speech and mind. He manifests as five-faced, four-faced, elephant-faced, and six-faced deities, forms so wondrous that even Śrī and Sarasvatī, rendered speechless, are unable to offer him praise. Who, then, am I—a sorrowful woman—that I should attempt to praise the Supreme, who is beyond all? Afflicted by fear, I bow again and again to the ocean of compassion. In the absence of her husband, for her, the Supreme Soul seems formless. Humbly, she bowed to the assembly of gods and to the brāhmaṇa who stood before her. Seeing the couple, the gods bestowed upon them the highest blessings. By the boon of the gods, she regained her life in their presence. Upabarhaṇa, the Gandharva, returned once more to the city of the Gandharvas. She made offerings to the brāhmaṇas, and Sati herself fed them. A great and varied festival was celebrated, filled with the auspicious chanting of Hari’s name alone. O Śaunaka, all this has been recounted to you, along with the king of hymns. A devotee of Viṣṇu, by such devotion, attains loving service to Hari. He certainly obtains the fruits of dharma, artha, kāma, and mokṣa. If one desires a wife, he gains a wife; if a son, he gains a son. One who has lost a kingdom regains it; one bereft of subjects recovers them. The fearful are freed from fear; the destitute recover their wealth; those scorched by fire are rescued; and those lost at sea are saved. Sauti continued: She assumed various forms for the sake of her husband, serving him and worshipping him as suited each occasion. She performed the great hymn of praise to the Supreme Person, along with the worship, protective charm, and mantra. Long ago, Vasiṣṭha had given the worship, praise, and related rites of Hari. Though the hymn and protective charm were forgotten, Vasiṣṭha—an ocean of compassion—restored them. Thus, the king ruled his kingdom, which rivaled the very abode of Kubera, surrounded by women who came and went in various ways, and others as well. Then Śaunaka inquired, “The two of them gave something special to Datta; you are worthy to speak of that.” That special gift was the twelve-syllable mantra and the protective charm of the wielder of the trident.