O sage, the entire order of creation has now been described. Sauti continued, explaining that even in ritual, the wife is essential for its performance; and the Vālakhilya sages were born. Among the great sages, three sons of Aṅgiras came forth. Śakti was the son of Vasiṣṭha, and Parāśara was born to Śakti. Vyāsa’s son, Śuka, who was a portion of Śiva himself, became foremost among the wise. Śaunaka then asked about the origin of Dhanesha, noting that no authoritative account existed. Sauti replied that the birth of Dhanesha, the lord, had now been narrated. By the curse of Brahma, the son of Viśravas was affected. Utathya gave Dhaneshvara as a gift to his teacher, as a fee. Dhanesha, having become weak, was ready to give himself over. Thus, Kubera, the son of Viśravas, became the lord of wealth. Continuing, Sauti spoke of Pulah’s son, Vātsya, and Śāṇḍilya, who was the son of Ruci. Kāśyapa was born from Kaśyapa, and Bharadvāja from Bṛhaspati. Śāṇḍilya, the son of Ruci, was a sage, radiant and foremost among the wise. Other Brahmin lineages arose from the mouth of Brahma. The eminent Kṣatriyas are remembered as descendants of the moon, the sun, and the Manus. From Brahma’s thighs came the Vaiśyas, and from his feet, the Śūdra lineages. Cowherds, barbers, Bhillas, Modaka, and Kūbara were also born. Thus, O foremost of Brahmins, the original pure Śūdras have been described. Viśvakarmā deposited his seed in a Śūdra woman. Among their offspring were the garland-maker, the conch-worker, the artisan, and the potter; the thread-maker, the painter, and likewise the goldsmith. Śaunaka then inquired, “How did those three fall among the lowest of the Śūdras? How did the curse of Brahmā come upon them, and for what reason?” Sauti answered: Viśvakarmā saw her as she was traveling along the path to Puṣkara. As she approached and he beheld her, his mind blossomed with delight. She was adorned with jeweled ornaments, her limbs soft and delicate. Her broad hips, heavy and enchanting, captivated even the minds of sages. As her garment was carried away by the wind, revealing her firm hips, her smiling, lovely face put the autumn moon to shame. She was adorned with a spot of vermilion and a mark of musk. Viśvakarmā, skilled in the science of love, spoke gently to her, his dear one: “O lovely one, having lost my very life-breath for you, stay a moment. I have searched for you alone, wandering the earth. Hearing from Rambhā’s lips that you are going to the world of Kāma—ah, on the charming bank of the Sarasvatī, in a garden of flowers—O beautiful one, just as a youthful lover delights with his beloved, so I have been with you. Endowed with steadfast youth, you alone are long-lived. By the boon of the conqueror of death, I have overcome the maiden of death.” And Ratnamālā, the ornament of women, came from Varuṇa and Vāyu.