As the Sūta continued, he narrated how, upon hearing the well-meaning words of Satyavatī, the sage Parāśara released her hand and stood quietly, having crossed to the other side of the river. But then, overcome by desire, Parāśara grasped the maiden, whose body still bore the scent of fish. Trembling before him, Satyavatī addressed the sage, “O best of sages, I am foul-smelling—how is it that you hesitate not? Happiness comes from union between those of equal nature.” Hearing her words, the sage, by his power, transformed her in an instant. Satyavatī was suddenly radiant, her body fragrant for a yojana all around, her face lovely and her presence enchanting. Parāśara made her as fragrant as musk, charming and delightful, and, still afflicted by desire, took her by the right hand. Yet Satyavatī, now beautiful and auspicious, spoke with gentle concern: “O sage, my father and the people are watching from the riverbank.” She added, “A union like that of animals, openly and harshly, does not please me. Wait until night falls, O best of sages. Union is prescribed at night, not for humans by day; people indeed see great fault in intercourse during the day. Restrain your desire, O wise one; public censure is hard to endure.” Hearing her reasonable words, Parāśara, by the power of his merit, swiftly created a thick mist. Darkness enveloped the riverbank, shielding them from all eyes. Then Satyavatī spoke softly, “O foremost of Brāhmaṇas, I am a virgin. After enjoying me as you wish, you will depart. But your potency is unfailing—what will become of me? What shall I say to my father if I become pregnant? You will leave after this; please tell me, what should I do then?” Parāśara replied, “Choose a boon, O timid and beautiful lady, whichever you desire.” Satyavatī asked, “Let my vow of maidenhood not be broken; grant me this, O best of twice-born. May my son be equal to you, possessing wondrous strength. May this fragrance always remain with me, and may my youth be ever fresh and renewed.” Parāśara assured her, “Listen, O beautiful one: your son, born of the lineage of Vishnu, will be pure and renowned throughout the three worlds. For some reason, I have become infatuated with you; never before, O lovely-faced one, have I lost my composure, not even upon seeing the forms of apsaras. By divine arrangement, seeing you, I became subject to desire; know that this is due to some cause, for destiny is hard to overcome. You, who once bore an unpleasant scent—how could I have become deluded? Your son, O beautiful one, will be the composer of the Purāṇas. He will be a knower of the Vedas, a divider of their branches, and famed throughout the three worlds.” Having spoken thus, Parāśara, the best of sages, enjoyed her and then departed swiftly, bathing in the waters of the Kālindī. Immediately, Satyavatī conceived, and on an island in the Yamunā, she gave birth to a radiant son, as if desire itself had taken form. As soon as he was born, the child, whose mind was already set on asceticism, addressed his mother: “Go, mother, as you wish; I will now depart to perform austerities. Whenever you have an important need, remember me, and I will appear. At that time, recall me, and I will come swiftly. Farewell to you; abandon worry and live happily.” Having spoken thus, Vyāsa departed, and Satyavatī returned to her father. Because the child was born on an island, he became known as Dvaipāyana. Immediately upon birth, due to the power of Vishnu’s lineage, he grew rapidly and performed supreme austerities at various sacred places. Thus was Dvaipāyana born from Parāśara and Satyavatī. Knowing the coming of the Kali age, he arranged the branches of the Vedas. Because he expanded the Vedas, the sage became known as Vyāsa. He composed the Purāṇas and the great Mahābhārata. He taught the Vedas to his disciples, dividing them accordingly: Sumantu, Jaimini, Paila, Vaishampayana, Asita, Devala, and his own son, Shuka. Sūta concluded: “All this, O best of sages, has been told as the reason. The auspicious birth of Satyavatī’s son has likewise been described; let there be no doubt about his origin. In the lives of the great, only virtues should be accepted, O sage; and for this reason, Satyavatī’s birth from the belly of a fish occurred. Her union with Parāśara, and later with Shantanu, happened thus; otherwise, how could a sage’s mind become overwhelmed by desire? How could that sage, knower of dharma, have acted in a way unworthy of the noble? This wondrous birth, with its cause, has been told. Whoever attentively hears this auspicious account is freed from all sin, does not fall into misfortune, and is always happy. Now, the account of Shantanu’s birth from Pratipa is to be described, as you have already heard of the origin of Vyāsa, of immeasurable splendor. Yet, even so, a doubt remains firmly in our minds.