Overwhelmed by unbearable hunger and forbidden entry everywhere he went, Kirtimukha performed a bold act, his devotion shining brightly. Witnessing this, the Lord was deeply pleased and spoke to Kirtimukha: “Dwell always at my temple. Whoever enters my abode without remembering you will quickly fall.” Having bestowed this blessing, the Lord vanished from sight. At that moment, the gods showered flowers upon Shambhu’s head in celebration. In the assembly of the Trident-bearing Lord, even Svarbhanu was astonished by this wondrous event. Amazed, he addressed the Lord of gods, asking, “O Bhava, how do the senses forcibly touch you, who are self-controlled and attained only by yogins? You are worshipped by the senses, but how can you be reached by the objects of sense?” Svarbhanu continued, “You accept worship from all the guardians of the worlds, beginning with Brahma, but you, O god, do not see nor worship anyone yourself. How is it that you, the Lord, are established in the world as a beggar for alms? You conceal the beautiful Gauri, O lord of yogis—give her to me. Now, together with your sons Skanda and Lambodara, take the alms bowl and wander always from house to house.” Thus, Rahu spoke in many ways to the Lord, but the Blessed One remained silent, offering no reply. Leaving the silent Lord, Rahu then turned to Nandi, saying, “You are the minister and general, O grim-faced one, bearer of the emblem. Having acted wrongly, you ought to be corrected; otherwise, in anger, you will fall slain in battle like Indra.” Hearing these words, Nandi informed the Lord, and with a mere gesture of his brows, Nandi understood the will of the wielder of the trident. Paying his respects, Nandi, chief of the Gaṇas, sent Rahu away. Then, going to Jālandhara, Nandi described in detail the events concerning Svarbhānu and the enchanting form of Gaurī. At another time, Nārada spoke of Nārāyaṇa, the Lord, who was clad in matted bark garments. His second attendant approached, holding fruit in his hand. Seeing them, a messenger of Kāma, her eyes soft as a doe’s, lamented. Hearing her words, both Nārāyaṇa and his attendant spoke gently to her: “Do not be afraid, O auspicious one; we have come to protect you. How did you enter this dreadful forest, frequented by the wicked?” Consoling the slender woman, Mādhava addressed the demon tormenting her: “Release this gentle-limbed, lovely-smiling woman from your vile conduct. Fool of evil ways, what are you intent on doing? Are you set on making all the eyes of the world your food? By the power of virtue, let this earth be rid of its adornment; today, let the world be without light, and Kāma be stripped of pride. Now, by killing Vṛndā in the forest, you will act; therefore, quickly release this goddess of the palace of happiness.” Hearing these words of Hari, the demon responded angrily, “If you are capable, then today itself free her from my grasp!” As soon as Mādhava spoke, his wrathful gaze struck the demon, who instantly fell to ashes, leaving Vṛndā far behind. Bewildered by the Lord’s illusion, Vṛndā asked, “Who are you, ocean of compassion, by whom I have been protected here? My bodily and mental suffering, the burning pain of ascetics, has been taken away by your sweet words and by the destruction of the demon. In your hermitage, gentle one, I will perform austerities, O treasure of penance.” The ascetic replied, “I am the son of Bharadvāja, renowned as Devaśarman. Abandoning all pleasures, I have come to this dreadful forest. With this boy-nosed one, my disciple, the lovers are here; there are also many others, my disciples, who can assume any form at will. If you wish to perform austerities in my hermitage, O noble lady, then come, let us go to another forest, for this place is far from the king.” Having spoken thus to the royal wife, Hari went toward the eastern direction; the king proceeded slowly into the forest filled with ghosts and spirits. Vṛndā, her eyes overflowing with tears, followed behind him, and the messenger of love, walking behind, called out, “Wait for me.” Meanwhile, a wicked person of sinful appearance spread a net in the forest, soon filled with living creatures. That leader of evildoers drew in the net and, having taken out the living beings caught in it, released them. Seeing the two women, the hunter spoke to the messenger of love: “Lady, let your companion come to me and take me by the hand.” Hearing this, Vṛndā looked at him, his face deformed, and shaken by fear, the beloved of Sindhu gazed at him. She fled in distress, shining, together with the messenger of love in the forest. Both ran together with her friend and reached the hermitage of ascetics. There, in that forest, Vṛndā saw wonders: birds with golden bodies resounded with various calls, and she saw a pond rich with golden lotuses, its ground made of gold. Rivers carried milk, and trees exuded honey. Heaps of sugar and piles of sweets were everywhere, along with all kinds of delicious foods and many ornaments. Divine weapons flew through the sky, satisfied monkeys played, leaping up and down. In a beautiful monastery, Vṛndā saw a sage seated on a tiger skin, radiating light throughout the three worlds.