After their souls departed the mortal world, the king and his queen traveled a painfully difficult path toward Yama’s abode. When they arrived, King Dharma beheld them and spoke to his scribe, Citragupta: “Citragupta, examine all the deeds of these two.” Thus ordered, Citragupta, O Jaimini, began to carefully consider every action the king and queen had performed, tracing their deeds to the very root. With joined palms, Citragupta addressed King Dharma: “O Lord, listen as I recount all that these two have done, both good and bad, upon the earth. I shall also speak of a means available to her—please hear me.” He continued, “Once, O Lord, there was a solitary deer, terrified by tigers, that fled the forest and entered the king’s assembly, desperately seeking to save its life. As the deer approached, the king, moved by curiosity, rose quickly and struck it down with his sword. Though the creature had sought refuge, the king killed it. Because of this act, O Lord, the king and his wife are always to be punished by you. “As many hairs as were on the deer’s body, so too for thousands and hundreds of manvantaras must he suffer. He who fails to protect one who has sought refuge, even at the cost of his own life or wealth, will be joined in hell by countless millions of families. But hear, too, of the merit of a wise man who protects one seeking refuge, even at the risk of his own life or wealth: such a one is freed from all sins, even those as grave as the killing of a Brahmin. At the end of such a life, he attains liberation, which even yogis find difficult to obtain. “But by your command, O Yama, this king and his wife were placed by your messengers in the dreadful forest of sword-leaves—a place of intense suffering, where the leaves are as sharp as swords. For this reason, the wise call it the forest of sword-leaves. There, they remained for hundreds of millions of ages, enduring great pain. “Afterward, the king and his wife entered the hell called ‘food for tigers,’ where all manner of torments abound. There, he became food for tigers, known as ‘food for tigers.’ After thousands of millions of ages, when the measure of their evil was complete, the king and his wife were born again on earth, this time in the womb of a frog. Remembering their past births, the two frogs lived in great misery. “They always stayed together on a certain riverbank, feeding on insects. One day, some meritorious humans happened to pass that way, heading toward the bank of the sacred Ganges. The two frogs saw them, and the male frog spoke: ‘Because of delusion during the rainy season, I performed many sinful acts. Even now, because of that karma, we cannot escape suffering. Yet even sinners are freed if they give up their bodies in the Ganges. Still, how is it that, after so much suffering, we remain? I wish now to give up this body in the Ganges. What means is there, dear one, tell me, for I wish to cross this ocean of suffering?’ “Hearing these words, his wife, humble and sorrowful, replied: ‘This suffering cannot be endured, my lord; let us act quickly.’ Then, O Brahmin, the couple remembered the auspicious Ganges. “With delight, they set out together, but after a long journey, hunger overcame them. Suddenly, a wicked, hissing serpent—the serpent of Time itself, terrifying to behold—appeared before them and declared, ‘You two sinful frogs have come at your destined hour. Now, surely, you both must be eaten by me, for I am hungry.’ “Greatly frightened and afflicted by suffering, the husband and wife spoke with devotion to the serpent of Time: ‘O serpent, there is not the slightest fear of death in our hearts. Once, I was a king on earth, known as Satyadharma, and this is my queen, Vijaya, who always stood by my side. Through delusion, I, of evil mind, sought refuge here, and for that very deed, I endured long suffering in Yama’s abode. To exhaust the remainder of my karma, I was born as a frog, together with my wife. Thus we have come here, for none can escape the consequences of their actions. ‘Truly, O serpent, we wish to reach the supreme abode—let us go to the bank of the Ganges to abandon our bodies. Abandon ignorance, O serpent, which brings the torment of hell; if you devour us, what little happiness will you gain? Vishnu dwells in our hearts, and Hari is in yours as well; therefore, what enmity can there be between you and us, O serpent? The wise should never commit violence against living beings; even if such violence occurs, fate itself brings about that act. Lifespan, children, wives, wealth, and fame—fate itself takes these away from those who commit violence. ‘What use are recitations, austerities, gifts, or sacrifices to one whose heart always harbors the thought of harm? That mortal who harms living beings is one who harms Hari himself, for the Lord, consort of Lakshmi, abides in the bodies of all creatures. The Lord, creator of beings, manifests in many forms and plays in the world like a child, by his own will. The body of the embodied is truly the dwelling of the Supreme Self; the Supreme Self is Vishnu himself—therefore, one should avoid violence. ‘By the destruction of another’s life, one’s own satisfaction is obtained. For a moment, there may be satisfaction for oneself through the loss of another’s life; such conduct among people on earth is indeed astonishing.’ Thus, the king and his queen, having endured the fruits of their actions, spoke words of wisdom, revealing the deep lessons learned through their journey of suffering, rebirth, and realization.