In the ancient times, the Goddess—though beyond all names—was known as the Sixfold One, grouped and understood through the three qualities of nature. Among all beings endowed with countless powers, she alone shone supreme, radiant with the glory of her might. Within her, both happiness and sorrow, as well as the essence of supreme bliss, were experienced; thus, O Goddess, all that is manifest and unmanifest—Brahman itself, whether seen as one or as many—is pervaded by you. Whatever exists—be it eternal or perishable, gross or subtle, dwelling upon earth, in the sky, or elsewhere—all is known only through you. Whatever is with form or formless, whether single or manifold among beings, divine or earthly, all is connected to you, O Goddess, and expressed through your very sounds and letters. Thus, when the Goddess Sarasvatī, the tongue of Vishnu, was praised in this way, she addressed the great-souled serpent Ashvatara. With kindness, Sarasvatī said, "O brother of Kambala, lord of serpents, I grant you a boon. Speak your desire, and I shall fulfill it." Ashvatara replied, "O Goddess, first let Kambala be granted as my companion. And bestow upon us both the knowledge and mastery of all musical notes." Sarasvatī, gracious and wise, answered, "O best of serpents, I grant you the seven notes, the musical modes, the seven songs, and the seven scales. You shall also receive the fifty-one tālas and the three grāmas—this entire knowledge, O sinless one, shall be yours and Kambala’s. By my grace, you will know the supreme art of serpent-music, the fourfold measure, the tāla, the three kinds of tempo, and the threefold rhythm. The three types of gait and the fourfold tāla I now give you; all this, together with the supreme serpent-music, is yours by my favor. All that is contained within this art, dependent upon it, and marked by notes and accents, I grant to you and to Kambala. And, O serpent, in the world of mortals or in the netherworld, there will be no others—only you two shall be the masters of this knowledge, in Pātāla, among the gods, and among mortals." Having bestowed these blessings, the Goddess Sarasvatī, mistress of all speech, vanished from the sight of the serpent, her eyes shining like lotuses. Immediately, all that had transpired became clear to the two brothers; supreme knowledge of meter, measure, notes, and all the intricacies of music arose in them both. Endowed with this mastery of the seven modes of song, and skilled in the arts of string and rhythm, the two serpents sought to worship the Lord who dwells atop Mount Kailāsa. Desiring to please the destroyer of Kāma, they united their voices and their skill, exerting themselves to the utmost. At dawn, at night, at midday, and during the twilights, they remained devoted, and over a long time, as they sang his praises, the bull-bannered Lord was pleased. Moved by their devotion, the Lord spoke: "Choose a boon." Bowing together, Ashvatara and Kambala addressed him, saying, "If the three-eyed God of gods is pleased with us, then grant us this boon as we desire: O Lord, let Madālasā, wife of the deceased Kuvalayāśva, become my daughter at once, in the same age as before, with memory of her past life, endowed with the same beauty, and let her be born in my house as a yoginī and mother of yogins." Mahādeva replied, "As you have spoken, O best of serpents, so shall it be, without doubt, by my grace. Now hear this, O serpent: When the śrāddha ceremony is performed, you should eat the middle rice-ball yourself, with purity and focused mind. When you have eaten it, from the middle of your hood, she of auspicious form, just as before, shall arise. While thinking of her, perform the ancestral offering; at that very moment, she of beautiful brows will emerge from the middle of your hood, breathing forth. A virtuous woman will arise, just as beautiful as Amrita." Hearing these words, the two serpents bowed to the great Lord and, filled with satisfaction, returned to the netherworld. There, Ashvatara performed the śrāddha ritual as instructed. He properly consumed the middle portion of the rice-ball offering, and as he meditated upon Madālasā with longing, that slender-waisted woman was instantly born from the middle of his hood as he exhaled, taking her very form. The serpent kept this wondrous event secret, telling no one. He kept the lovely-toothed woman, guarded by other women, within the inner chambers, and the two sons of the serpent lord came daily, happily. Together with Ṛtadhvaja, they played like immortals. One day, the serpent king, filled with joy, spoke to his sons: "Why is it that what I previously said is not being done? That prince, your benefactor, should be brought to me. Why is the prince, the bestower of honor, not brought here for your benefit, my children?" Thus addressed by their affectionate father, the two brothers went to the prince’s city and enjoyed themselves with the wise Kuvalayāśva as friends. After some time spent in conversation, they affectionately spoke to him about returning with them to their own home. But the prince replied, "Is not this your home? All my wealth, vehicles, garments, and so on are yours; whatever you desire—be it wealth or jewels—let it be given to you, O brahmin youths, if you have affection for me. For in this alone have I been deceived by fate, O wicked one, that you do not treat my house as your own. If you consider me dear, or if I am to be favored by you, then let my wealth and my house be regarded as your own; what is mine is yours, and what is yours is mine." Thus, the bonds of friendship and devotion were deepened among them, as the blessings of the gods and the grace of the Goddess continued to unfold.