The wise sage addressed the king, saying, “All creatures—whether four-footed, two-footed, or birds—come into being in the womb. This truth has already been fully declared. What more would you ask, O lion among kings?” The king, eager for deeper understanding, pressed on: “By what means does a mortal attain the highest awareness—is it through austerity, or through knowledge? Please reveal everything, as I have asked, so that one may progress to auspicious worlds in the proper order.” The sage replied, “The wise have spoken of seven great doors to the heavenly world: austerity, charity, tranquility, self-control, modesty, straightforwardness, and compassion for all beings. All of these, as I have said, are rooted in austerity. Yet, if any of these qualities are tainted by arrogance, they perish, overcome by darkness—so the wise always teach. “Furthermore, if one who considers himself learned destroys another’s reputation through knowledge, such a person’s rewards are limited; he does not attain the fruit of Brahman. Four actions, when performed improperly and tainted by pride, bring fear: sacrifice, silence, study, and charity. One who is honored should not become elated, nor should he be distressed by dishonor. The virtuous honor the virtuous in this world; the wicked cannot comprehend the minds of the good. “Acts such as giving, sacrificing, studying, and listening—these are said to be free from fear and should always be practiced without exception. The wise perceive an ancient refuge within the mind, accompanied by honor; by uniting with this supreme good, they attain the highest peace, both here and hereafter.” The king then inquired further: “How does a householder attain the gods? How does a wandering mendicant? How does one engaged in the teacher’s duties, or a forest-dweller established on the right path? Many now seek answers to these questions.” The sage explained, “A student who studies when called, diligently serves the teacher, rises early and rests late, is gentle and self-controlled, steadfast and vigilant, and devoted to self-study—such a celibate achieves success. For householders, having acquired wealth righteously, one should perform sacrifices, always give, and feed guests, but never accept what is given by others. This is the ancient teaching. “As for the forest-dweller, he lives by his own strength, abstains from wrongdoing, gives to others, and harms no one. Such a sage, regulating his food and actions, attains the highest perfection. The true mendicant does not live by crafts, is always free from quarrel, has mastered his senses, is detached from all, sleeps without a fixed abode, seeks little, and wanders through many lands. “The night in which people, overcome by desire, find pleasure—on that very night, the wise man, self-controlled and established in the forest, should strive to become so. The forest-dweller, having offered to ten ancestors before and ten after, as well as himself as the twenty-first, attains merit by relinquishing his body in the forest. “You asked about the vows of silence among gods and sages. Listen: For one dwelling in the forest who has left the village behind, or for one living in the village who has left the forest behind—such a sage is lord among men. The village is left behind for him who is devoted to the forest and avoids worldly affairs. A sage without fire, without a fixed abode, wandering without family ties, should desire only the simplest garment to cover his loins and only as much food as is necessary to sustain life. For him who dwells in the village with such restraint, the forest is left behind. “But the sage who, having renounced desires and actions, mastered his senses, and practices silence—he attains perfection in this world. Who would not honor one who is always clean, with trimmed nails and cleansed teeth, bathed and adorned, even if dark in complexion, so long as he is engaged in pure deeds? “When the sage, emaciated by austerity, thin, with flesh, bone, and blood diminished, becomes free from dualities and established in silence—then, having conquered this world and the next, when he seeks food with his mouth like a cow, all the worlds become fit for his immortality.” At this point, a new question arose: “Which of these two, O King, first attains union with the gods—of those who strive, like the sun and the moon racing together?” The answer was given: “He who, though living among householders and those devoted to desires, remains restrained and wanders as a mendicant in the village—he attains first. If one who has not attained long life or who has become deformed practices austerity, let him, having done that, undertake severe penance. Whatever is cruel is unfit; one who serves righteousness with a mind not set on gain—he is not a lord, O King, but that is true integrity, concentration, and nobility. “Tell me, O King, by whom have you been sent today? You are young, garlanded, handsome, radiant—where have you come from, in which direction? Do you hold a royal position here?” Then came the reply: “He whose merit is exhausted is about to enter this earthly hell, cast down from the sky to the earth. Having told you this, I must fall; these guardians of Brahma’s world are urging me on. Surrounded by the virtuous, your fall is joined by all the worthy; I have obtained this boon from Indra, O king, that I shall fall to the earth. “I ask you, as you fall into the abyss, O king, are there worlds here for me—whether in the atmosphere or established in heaven? I consider you the knower of the field of that righteousness.” The sage responded, “As many cows and horses as exist on earth, along with wild animals and birds—so many worlds are established for you in heaven; know this, O lion among kings. I give you those worlds—do not fall into the abyss. O king of kings, as many worlds as are in heaven, or in the atmosphere, or established in heaven—take possession of them quickly, O destroyer of foes. “O foremost of kings, neither one such as I, nor a non-Brahmin, nor even a knower of Brahman, should engage in accepting gifts. Whatever should always be given to the twice-born, I gave that before, O king. A wretched non-Brahmin should never live, even if he has a Brahmin wife or is the husband of a heroic woman. If I were to do what has never been done before, seeking to know, what virtue would there be in that? “I ask you, O Pratardana of admirable form: if I have worlds, whether in the sky or in heaven as is heard, I consider you to be the knower of the law concerning them. There are many worlds for you, O king—each one, seven hundred days long, flowing with honey and ghee, free from sorrow; yet they are finite, and they await you.” Thus, the dialogue unfolded, weaving together teachings on the paths to perfection, the dangers of pride, the virtues of restraint, and the mystery of the worlds that await the righteous.