Sarasvatī, the radiant goddess of speech whose eyes shone like lotuses, graciously addressed the serpents. “I have bestowed upon you the three types of gait and the fourfold tāla, together with the supreme serpent-music. By my favor, you shall receive all of this. Everything that lies within it, depends on it, and is marked by the subtle distinctions of notes and accents—I grant it all to you and to Kambala. O serpents, whether in the world of mortals or in the netherworld, there will be none other; you two alone shall be the masters of this knowledge, in Pātāla, among the gods, and among men.” Having spoken thus, Sarasvatī, mistress of all learning, vanished from their sight, leaving the serpents in awe. In that moment, all that had transpired became manifest to the two brothers. Supreme knowledge of meter, measure, notes, and all that pertains to music and rhythm arose within them, illuminating their minds. Endowed now with mastery over the seven modes of song, skilled in the use of string and rhythm, the two serpents resolved to worship the great Lord who dwells atop Mount Kailāsa. Desiring to please the god who destroyed Kāma, they united their voices and their skill, exerting themselves with utmost devotion. Morning, night, midday, and twilight—they remained steadfast in their praise, singing to the bull-bannered Lord over a long period of time. At last, their devotion bore fruit. Pleased by their songs, the great Lord spoke: “Choose a boon.” Bowing together, Aśvatara and Kambala addressed the blue-throated Lord, husband of Umā: “If the three-eyed God of gods is pleased with us, then grant us this boon as we desire: 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. 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 listen: When the śrāddha ceremony is performed, you, O noble serpent, should eat the middle rice-ball yourself, with purity and a 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 divine words, the two bowed to the great Lord and returned to the netherworld, filled with satisfaction. There, Kambala’s younger brother performed the śrāddha ritual with proper observance. He consumed the middle portion of the rice-ball offering, meditating upon Madālasā with longing. Instantly, that slender-waisted woman was born from the middle of his hood as he exhaled, taking her former form. The serpent kept this wondrous event secret, telling no one. He sheltered that lovely, radiant woman within the inner chambers, guarded by other women. The two sons of the serpent lord visited her daily, rejoicing in her presence. Together with Ṛtadhvaja, they played and delighted like immortals. One day, the serpent king, his heart brimming with joy, spoke to his sons: “Why is it that what I previously asked has not been done? That prince, your benefactor, should be brought to me. Why is the prince, the bestower of honor, not here for your benefit, my children?” Thus addressed by their affectionate father, the two brothers went to the prince’s city, enjoying themselves as friends with the wise Ṛtadhvaja. After some time in conversation with Kuvalayāśva, they gently spoke to him of returning with them to their home. The prince replied, “Is not this your home? All my wealth, vehicles, garments—whatever you desire, whether wealth or jewels—let it be given to you, O brahmin youths, if you have affection for me. In this alone have I been deceived by fate—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 yours; what is mine is yours, and what is yours is mine. Know this as truth: you are both as dear as my own life. Never again, O best of brahmins, should you speak of separation in this way. With my heart full of affection, you are both bound by my favor.” Hearing these words, the two sons of the serpent lord, their faces wet with affectionate tears, replied to the prince, their voices mingling affection and gentle reproach: “Ṛtadhvaja, there is no doubt, just as you have said, so it is in our minds; there is no thought otherwise. But this was spoken to us by our own father, the great-souled one. Again and again he said, ‘I wish to see Kuvalayāśva.’” At these words, Kuvalayāśva rose from his excellent seat and bowed down, saying, “As you command, father. I am blessed, I am most fortunate—who else is equal to me, when my father so eagerly desires to see me? Let us rise and go; I do not wish to delay, even for a moment, in fulfilling my father’s command. I swear by my feet to this.” Thus resolved, the prince departed with the two brothers. Leaving the city, they journeyed to the sacred Gomati river. The sons of the king of serpents led him through the middle of the river, and the prince thought their home lay on the far shore. But then, drawing him down to the netherworld, the two brought the prince, and there he beheld the serpent princes in their true glory.