In the course of time, a man acts according to his own nature, and his descendants—sons and grandsons—are born with similar dispositions. He clings to his previous prosperity and is reluctant to let go of people; this is known as the tamasic treasure called Makara. Even if a man is of good conduct, he may become dominated by darkness, engaging in the acquisition of arrows, swords, bows, and animal hides. Such a person deals in sharp weapons, forms alliances with kings, and offers gifts to those of heroic character who are dear to rulers. His delight lies solely in the buying and selling of weapons, and this trait is unique to him—it does not pass on to his sons. Driven by the pursuit of wealth, he may perish at the hands of robbers or fall in battle; this is the mark of the treasure called Kacchapa. Such a person is overcome by darkness, for this is a tamasic treasure, yet, due to merit, he involves himself in all sorts of dealings. He keeps his activities secret from everyone, withdrawing into himself just as a tortoise draws in its limbs. In the same way, he restrains his mind, remaining aloof, neither giving nor enjoying, anxious out of fear of loss. He buries his treasure in the earth, and it remains the possession of one man only. There is yet another treasure, called Mukunda, which is composed of rajas. A man who is graced by this treasure acquires its qualities, such as the possession of musical instruments like the vīṇā, flute, and drum. He arranges for singing, provides for dancers, and supports bards, charioteers, jesters, and graceful performers. He offers enjoyments day and night, partaking of them with those around him, and develops a passion for courtesans and others of similar kind. He attends gatherings, and upon whichever man the treasure settles, another great treasure, Nanda—composed of rajas and tamas—also follows. The man favored by Nanda becomes filled with pride and acquires all sorts of metals, gems, and auspicious grains. He amasses these, engages in their trade, and becomes a support for his own people and for travelers. He is sensitive to even the slightest insult, but when praised, he responds with great affection. Whatever desire he sets his heart on, he attains with gentleness, and he has many wives, all fertile and exceedingly beautiful. For the sake of pleasure, the treasure Nanda follows seven men; but when it departs, it leaves a man with only one-eighth of its former benefit. It grants long life to all those men, provides for their relatives, and even for those who come from afar. Nanda bestows these benefits even in the other world, but it is not held in high regard, and among those who live together, no deep affection arises. The man becomes indifferent to former friends and forms new bonds of affection with others. In a similar way, the great treasure possessing sattva and rajas behaves. This treasure is called Nīla. A man associated with Nīla acquires its qualities, such as textiles, cotton, grains, fruits, and flowers. He also gains pearls, coral, conch shells, mother-of-pearl, and other things produced from water, as well as wood and similar goods. He trades in these, and his mind delights in nothing else. He constructs ponds, reservoirs, and gardens, builds dams for rivers, and plants trees. After enjoying pleasures such as unguents and flowers, he is reborn. There exists a treasure called Nola, which endures for three generations, and another, composed of rajas and tamas, known as Śaṅkha. This treasure, too, leads a man and endows him with its qualities, but it remains with only one person and does not pass to another. The man whose treasure is the conch, O Krauṣṭuki, is of a particular nature: he alone eats the best food and wears the finest garments, keeping these for himself. His attendants must make do with inferior fare and do not wear fine clothes. He is not generous to his wife, brothers, sons, daughters-in-law, or others; the man with the conch treasure always seeks only his own maintenance. Thus, these treasures are known as the wealth-giving deities among men. When treasures are mixed, their results match their combined nature; as described, the outcome always reflects the character of the treasure present. Now, Mārkaṇḍeya tells of what happened next. Having returned to his own city, the king saw the brāhmaṇa together with his virtuous wife, both filled with joy. The brāhmaṇa said, “O best of kings, I am fulfilled, for righteousness has been protected; by your knowledge of dharma, you have brought back my wife.” The king replied, “You are fulfilled, O best of brāhmaṇas, by your steadfastness in duty; but we are in distress, O brāhmaṇa, for our wives are not at home.” The brāhmaṇa asked, “O king, if your wife had been eaten by wild beasts in the forest, why did you not take another wife? Overcome by anger, you did not protect righteousness.” The king answered, “My beloved was not eaten by wild beasts; she is alive and her conduct is unblemished—how could I do such a thing?” The brāhmaṇa then said, “If your wife is alive and not unfaithful, then by treating her as if she were not your wife, what sin have you committed?” The king replied, “Even though she has been brought back, O brāhmaṇa, she is always unfriendly to me; she brings sorrow, not happiness, and has no affection for me. Therefore, please make an effort so that she becomes devoted to me.” The brāhmaṇa assured him, “For your satisfaction, a beneficial rite will be performed by those who desire friendship; I will make her friendly to you. She is indeed the supreme cause of affection between husband and wife, O king of men; I will perform the tāntaveṣṭi rite for the wife and child.