Once there was a king who governed his realm with wisdom and order. All the means of rule—conciliation, gifts, and rewards—were at his command, and he maintained harmony by establishing the varnas and ashramas in their proper duties. This king performed many kinds of sacrifices, gave abundant gifts, and distributed pure charities with a generous hand. News of his beauty, virtues, generosity, noble character, wealth, and valor spread far and wide, reaching even the celestial realms. Urvashi, the renowned apsara, heard of him and became captivated, her heart drawn to the king by his many qualities. Afflicted by a curse from Brahma, Urvashi descended to the world of humans. Considering the king’s virtue and renown, the proud and radiant Urvashi chose him as her husband. Urvashi approached the king and made an agreement before staying with him: “O king, you must protect these two lambs of mine, O bestower of honor. My food shall always be clarified butter; nothing else is to be my meal. And, O great king, you must not see me naked except during our union. If this agreement is broken, then I will leave you and depart; this I truly declare.” The king, enchanted by her beauty and desirous of her company, agreed to her conditions. Urvashi, bound by the terms of her curse, remained with him. In her company, the king became utterly absorbed in pleasure, neglecting his dharma and other duties, his mind clouded by passion. He thought of nothing but Urvashi; deprived of her presence, he could not bear even a moment, so deep was his infatuation. Many years passed in this way. In heaven, Indra, the king of the gods, noticed Urvashi’s absence and addressed the Gandharvas: “O Gandharvas, all of you, bring Urvashi here! She was taken from the king’s house at the appointed time. My abode does not shine without Urvashi; by any means, bring back that desirous one.” Obeying Indra’s command, the Gandharvas, led by Vishvavasu, descended to earth when darkness had fallen. In the forest, they found Urvashi and the king enjoying themselves. Suddenly, they seized the two lambs, carrying them away through the sky. The lambs cried out, their voices echoing like the cries of children. Hearing these cries, Urvashi became angry and turned to the king: “This agreement was made by me. I am lost to you, having trusted you, for thieves have taken my children from the forest. O king, you remain united with a woman while your sons are gone. I am destroyed by this ignoble, impotent one who boasts of valor; today my two beloved sons have been taken from the forest.” Seeing Urvashi’s distress, the king was bewildered. In his haste and confusion, he rushed after her, naked. In the palace, illuminated by flashes of lightning conjured by the Gandharvas, Urvashi saw the king naked—a sight forbidden by their agreement. Having left the forest, the Gandharvas departed. The king, exhausted and still unclothed, managed to recover the two lambs and returned home. But Urvashi, seeing her husband naked and knowing the agreement had been broken, departed from him. The king was plunged into deep sorrow, wandering from place to place, crying out in grief, his mind disturbed and helpless, overwhelmed by desire. He wandered the whole earth, searching for Urvashi, until at last he saw her at Kurukshetra. Overjoyed, the king called out to her: “Ah, wife, stay, stay! In this terrible place, you should not abandon me, your beloved, who is devoted to you and innocent. This body will fall here, O goddess, taken far away by you; wolves and crows will devour it, since you, O fair one, have abandoned it.” As the king lamented, Urvashi replied to him, who was miserable, pitiable, exhausted, and tormented by desire: “You are a fool, O tiger among kings! Where has your wisdom gone? There is no true friendship with women, O king, just as with wolves. One should not place trust in women, thieves, or kings. Go home, enjoy yourself in comfort, and do not let your mind fall into despair.” Despite her words, the king, utterly deluded and bound by the affection of a wanton woman, did not understand. He fell into even greater sorrow. Thus ends the great story of Urvashi, as recounted by Sūta, a tale that is elaborated in the Vedas but here told in brief. Sūta continued: At another time, Vyāsa beheld a divine maiden with dark, intoxicating eyes and became absorbed in thought: “What should I do? This apsaras is not suitable for me.” As Vyāsa pondered thus, the apsaras, seeing him, was filled with fear, anxious that he might utter a curse. Trembling, she transformed herself into a female parrot and swiftly departed, astonishing Krishna, who saw her in the form of a bird. Yet, merely seeing her, desire arose within Vyāsa’s body. He was amazed, every limb filled with wonder. With great self-control, the sage tried to restrain his mind, but he could not subdue it, for it had become unrestrained. Though he tried repeatedly, deluded by the apsaras Ghṛtācī and by destiny itself, Vyāsa’s boundless energy could not be contained. While the sage was producing fire by friction, wishing to kindle a sacred fire, his semen suddenly fell there in the forest. Without dwelling on this, Vyāsa continued to churn the fire-sticks. From that union, a son was born—Śuka, possessing Vyāsa’s captivating form. The child, born from the fire-sticks, caused wonder, shining forth like a blazing fire at a sacrifice when fed with offerings.