Therefore, in that sacred time and place, disease did not trouble the bodies of living beings. The evil and inauspicious seed of affliction found no ground to spread. Yet, there were those rare souls who, by the power of yoga or through great austerities, willingly relinquished their bodies. It was then that Mālāvatī, flourishing in virtue and steadfastness, heard the words of the wise Brahmin. She remained unwavering, her heart resolute. With deep respect, Mālāvatī addressed him: “Though you appear very young, your understanding surpasses even the most skilled in yoga. You have given your word to restore my beloved to life. Afterward, the best among the knowers of the Veda will bring him back to me.” She remembered how, in the assembly, her beloved had lived—present before that intense and powerful sage. The gods themselves, beginning with Brahmā and all those gathered in the assembly, bore witness. Mālāvatī declared, “If a woman protects her husband, then none can harm him—not even among the gods, not Indra, Brahmā, or Rudra. The husband is the doer, the taker, the ruler, the nourisher, and the protector. A maiden born in a noble family who is obedient to her husband is blessed, but the wicked one, lowest among women, who serves another man, falls from grace. I am Upabarhaṇa’s wife, and also the daughter of Citraratha. You, best among the knowers of the Veda, can measure all time.” Hearing her words, the best of the Vedic knowers responded. Suddenly, the virtuous Mālatī beheld the maiden of death before her. This maiden smiled serenely, with six arms, peaceful and compassionate—a great chaste woman. Mālatī, herself chaste, then saw Time personified, a portion of Nārāyaṇa, standing before her with six faces, sixteen arms, and twenty-four eyes. She saw the god of gods, terrifying in his aspect as the destroyer of all, yet his face bore a gentle smile, gracious and holding a rosary—a boon-giver. Before Mālatī appeared hosts of diseases, difficult to overcome. Among them was one with large feet, dark in color, righteous—the son of the sun. He understood the judgments of right and wrong, embodying supreme righteousness. Despite these awe-inspiring visions, Mālatī was unafraid. She first questioned Yama, the Lord of Death: “O Lord, how is it that you take my husband before his time?” Yama replied, “O virtuous one, I do not disturb the life of anyone without the command of the Supreme Lord. I am Time, I am the maiden of death, and these diseases—all are difficult to overcome. The daughter of Death, skilled in discernment, approaches each being from the moment of conception.” Still, Mālatī pleaded, “How do you take my beloved from me while I am yet alive, O dear one?” The daughter of Death answered, “It is not possible to abandon him, even with great austerities. Among all virtuous women, there is one who shines radiant and exceptional. O beautiful one, at such a time, all calamities are pacified here. Yet, driven by Time, I and my sons, as well as diseases, must act. If you seek understanding, ask Time himself, the great soul and knower of dharma, in the assembly of righteousness.” Mālatī then bowed and addressed Time, the portion of Nārāyaṇa: “O Lord, I bow to you and the Supreme. How do you take my beloved from me while I am still alive, O master?” The Personification of Time replied, “We wander constantly, upholding the commands of the Lord.