"O beautiful one," the king asked gently, "why do you always keep your face turned downward?" The lady, her heart burning with anger, replied sharply, "Why do you ask me such things, O deceitful one? You ate the sweetmeat powder without me, you gave it away to another, and then, disregarding me, you became enamored with someone else." The ant, wishing to soothe her, answered, "Because she resembled you, O fair-complexioned one, I gave it to her. Please forgive me this one offense, O beautiful one. I will not do so again. Give up your anger, O lovely-breasted one. In truth, I bow before you and touch your feet—be gracious to me." He continued, "If you are angry, O beautiful-hipped one, then death stands before me; but if you are pleased, O lovely-thighed one, then all my desires are fulfilled. O beautiful-hipped one, always drink fully from my face, which is like the full moon and as sweet as nectar, for I am ever attached to love. Knowing this, you should always show compassion to me in all auspicious deeds." Hearing these heartfelt words, she was finally appeased. In her happiness, the ant offered herself for enchantment. Brahmadatta, who perceived all that had transpired, smiled gently. He could understand the speech of all beings, a power gained through the merit of his past actions. At this point, Bhishma interrupted, eager to know more: "How did King Brahmadatta come to know the speech of all beings? And what of the group of four chakravaka birds—where and how did they come to be? In whose family, and with what virtues?" Pulastya replied, "In that very city, O King, the chakravaka birds were born. They were the sons of an aged Brahmin—wise, mindful of their past births, steadfast, perceivers of truth, learned, noble in character, and devoted to austerity. By name and by deed, they were the sons of a very poor man, but being twice-born, their minds turned toward asceticism. The best among them declared, 'We will attain the highest perfection.' Hearing this, their father Sudaridra, the great ascetic, spoke in distress, 'What is this, my sons? This is not righteous. Abandoning your old, poor, forest-dwelling father—where is dharma in this? What will become of me when you have left?'" The sons replied, "Father, we have arranged for your livelihood. Listen to our words. This vow was once that of a king, and he will give you abundant wealth. He will grant you wealth and thousands of villages when you recite in the morning. The Brahmins at Kurukshetra, the hunters at Dashapura, the animals at Kalanjara, and the chakravaka birds at Manasa—" Having said this, they departed again for the forest to pursue asceticism, leaving their father behind. Even in his old age, the Brahmin set out to fulfill his purpose. In those days, there was a king named Anuha, lord of the Panchalas. Desiring a son, he worshipped the Lord of gods, the lotus-born Brahma, with intense vows and devotion. After a long time, Brahma was pleased and appeared before him. "Choose a boon, O king," he said, "ask for whatever your heart desires." Anuha replied, "Grant me, O Lord of gods, a son of great strength and valor, accomplished in all knowledge, righteous, and foremost among yogis. Let him be one who knows the speech of all beings and is a true yogi." Brahma, the soul of the universe, said, "So be it." Before the eyes of all, Brahma vanished, and in due time, Anuha's son was born—Brahmadatta, endowed with great prowess. Brahmadatta was compassionate to all creatures, surpassed all beings in strength, understood the speech of all beings, and was lord among all beings. United with virtue and yogic realization, he approached the ant, where that pair of insects was found in enjoyment. Seeing him smiling in amazement, the lady with him, Sannati, became suspicious and questioned the king. "O king," she asked, "why did you suddenly laugh? I do not know the reason for your laughter at such a time." The prince replied, "O lovely-faced one, my laughter arose from the speech of the ant, which was produced out of passion and tastelessness. There is no other reason for my laughter, and the queen did not say anything false to you." Sannati, feeling slighted, said, "I alone have been laughed at by you today—what more is there to say? How can a mortal know the speech of ants unless he is a god?" The king, struck silent by her words, wished to understand their deeper meaning. He undertook a vow, remaining pure for seven nights. At the end of this period, as he wandered the city at dawn, Brahma appeared to him in a dream and spoke: "Your beloved will learn everything from an aged, excellent Brahmin." With these words, Brahma vanished. In the morning, the king left the city with his ministers and wife. On the road, he saw an old Brahmin approaching, speaking as he came. The Brahmin said, "Those foremost Brahmins in Kurujangala, the Dasas in Dashapura, the deer, the seven chakravaka birds in Kalanjara, and the siddhas dwelling in Manasa lake—" Hearing these words, the king fell down, overwhelmed with grief. The sons of the ministers regained remembrance of their past births. Bābhravya, the author of a treatise on love and renowned among the people as Panchala, knower of all scriptures, was among them. Pundarika too, righteous-souled and promoter of Vedic knowledge, having become one who remembers past births, likewise fell in front from grief.