The great sage, confronted with a difficult question, fell into deep contemplation. He thought to himself, “May my vow of truthfulness not be broken today. Yet, if I simply say that the boar is not seen, what purpose does such speech serve?” The sage reflected further: “The boar, its body pierced by arrows, has indeed come here. How can I speak either truthfully or falsely today? This man, tormented by hunger, is asking me; if he sees the boar, he will surely kill it.” He pondered the very nature of truth: “Where there is violence, truth is not truly truth; and that which is compassionate, even if untrue, is indeed the higher truth. Here, that which brings benefit to people is the real truth, not otherwise.” Yet he was troubled: “How can there be benefit for both, when their interests are directly opposed? What answer can there be, except perhaps a lie?” Thus, caught in a dilemma of dharma, the sage found himself unable to utter a fitting reply. At that moment, seeing the wounded boar and filled with compassion, the Goddess herself spoke. Pleased with the sage’s struggle for righteousness, the auspicious one granted him a rare and divine knowledge, arising from her own essence. With the utterance of her sacred seed-syllable, all knowledge was revealed to him; and, just as before, he became a poet of great renown, like Vālmīki. Turning to the hunter who stood before him, bow in hand, the twice-born sage—now Satyakāma, righteous and compassionate—spoke a single, profound verse: “She who sees does not speak, and she who speaks does not see. O hunter, intent on your own purpose, why do you ask again and again?” Hearing these words, the animal-slayer, disappointed in his search for the boar, turned back and returned home. The brāhmaṇa, now a poet like the son of Prachetas, became famous everywhere as Satyavrata, the twice-born. He performed the proper rites and recited the Sārasvata seed-mantra, and his fame spread widely across the earth. At every festival, brāhmaṇas sang his praises, and sages lauded his extensive poetry. Hearing of his transformation, people gathered at his dwelling and ashram, and he who was once abandoned was now brought home with great honor. Therefore, O King, the supreme Goddess—the primal power, the cause of all worlds—should always be served and worshipped with devotion. O great King, perform her sacrifice according to the Vedic injunctions; it is said to fulfill all desires. Whether she is remembered, worshipped with devotion, meditated upon, uttered, or praised, she grants the desired objects—thus she is called the fulfiller of purposes. The wise must always strive to bring about this effect, especially when seeing those afflicted with disease, misery, hunger, poverty, or deceit; and likewise, those who are distressed, ignorant, tormented by enemies, obedient servants, the lowly, the disabled, and the agitated. Even those unsatisfied in food and enjoyment, suffering, unable to control their senses, overwhelmed by desire, powerless, and oppressed by others should be considered. Similarly, those blessed with wealth, increasing sons and grandsons, strong bodies, enjoyment of pleasures, and knowledge of the Vedas; those adorned with royal fortune, heroes, conquerors, those surrounded by their own people, and marked by all auspicious qualities—these too should reflect. The discerning must contemplate both distinction and association, for the auspicious Goddess, bestower of all results, is not always worshipped by such people. Yet, always worshipped by these, Ambika grants happiness to all in this world—of this, there is no doubt. Vyasa continued, “O King, thus, in that gathering of sages, I have heard at length from the mouth of Lomasha the supreme glory of the Goddess. Therefore, one should always perform worship with utmost devotion and love for her.” The king then spoke, “Tell me in full the proper method of sacrifice to the Goddess. Having heard, I will perform it, O Lord, to the best of my ability and without negligence. Also explain the procedure of worship, the mantras, the offerings for the fire ritual, the number of Brahmins, and the gifts to be given.” Vyasa replied, “Listen, O King, I will explain the sacrifice to the Goddess properly. It is always known as threefold, according to the prescribed rules: sattvic, rajasic, and tamasic. The sattvic is prescribed for sages, the rajasic is remembered for kings, and the tamasic is for rakshasas. For the wise, the sacrifice is beyond all qualities; for the liberated, it is of the nature of knowledge. I will explain this in detail. The sattvic sacrifice is that in which the place, time, materials, mantras, Brahmins, and faith are all pure. If there is purity of materials, actions, and mantras, then the result is complete; otherwise, it is not. If a good deed is performed with wealth obtained unjustly, it brings neither fame in this world nor fruit in the next. Therefore, a good deed should always be performed only with wealth obtained justly; it brings fame, happiness, and benefit in the next world. You have seen, O King, the sacrifice performed by the Pandavas—the great Rajasuya, completed with excellent gifts. There, Hari himself—Krishna, the noble lord of the Yadavas—was present, along with Brahmins of perfect knowledge such as Bharadvaja and others. Yet, having performed the sacrifice perfectly, the Pandavas, within a single month, encountered great hardship and a terrible exile to the forest. There was the suffering of Draupadi, defeat in the game of dice, and the great hardship of forest exile—where did the fruit of the sacrifice go? All the great souls became servants in the house of Virata; Draupadi, the best of women, was tormented by Kichaka. Where did the blessings of the pure-hearted twice-born go? Where did their devotion to Vasudeva go in that time of distress?