Without fully understanding the depth of the tiger’s devotion, you have recounted its past actions. But if true devotion to you, O Goddess, exists, what do sins matter? A devotee does not perish. Even those who act virtuously do so only by your command, for you are the unborn, ancient wisdom, the supreme goddess. For all beings, bondage and liberation depend on you alone; apart from you, whose actions can attain the highest power or success? You alone are the manifold power behind all things. Whether beings act or remain still, without you, the agent can accomplish nothing. For Vishnu, for myself, and for all others—gods, demons, and spirits—the attainment of their respective dominions happens only by your will. Countless Brahmas, Vishnus, and Shivas have come and gone, and countless more will arise, all under your command. Without worshipping you, O goddess of the gods, even the highest among us cannot attain the four aims of life. There may be an immediate exchange between the state of Brahma and that of immobile beings; yet, merit and demerit are established by you alone. You are the primal, eternal power of Shiva, the supreme soul who sustains the universe, without beginning, middle, or end. For the sake of the world’s journey, you assume some form. Therefore, even this tiger, though a doer of evil, may attain the highest accomplishment by your grace—what obstacle could there be? Thus, recalling her own highest nature, Gauri, prompted by Brahma, withdrew from her austerities. Then, after taking leave of the goddess, when Brahma had vanished, the goddess saw her mother Menā together with Himavat. She bowed and gently consoled her parents, who were heartbroken at the thought of separation. The devoted goddess, beloved of penance, then approached the forest hermitages. In the pain of parting, as she shed tears like flowers, the birds perched above cried out plaintively. Distressed and agitated in many ways, as if lamenting, she spoke to her companions, eager for a vision of her beloved husband. Out of affection, as if the tiger were her own son, she placed it before her and illumined the ten directions with the radiance of her body. Gauri then journeyed to Mandara, where her husband, the great Lord—creator, sustainer, and destroyer of all worlds—resided. Having assumed a radiant, divine form, the mountain’s daughter entered. How did she see her husband, Satī, as she entered adorned? At the moment of her entry, what did the Lord do when he saw the Gaṇeśas stationed at the palace gate, and what did they do? Such supreme delight cannot be described directly, for the feeling born of love seizes the hearts of those who feel. The doorkeepers, in their excitement and eagerness for the goddess’s arrival, anxiously let her in. She beheld him within. Honored by the chief Gaṇas inside the palace, with words of devotion and affection, she bowed to Triambaka. She had not yet risen from her bow when the Supreme Lord embraced her with both arms, surrounding her with great joy. Though he wished to hold her on his lap, she sat on the couch; but from the couch, he gently lifted the smiling goddess onto his lap. Smiling, with wide-open eyes, as if drinking in her face, the Lord was the first to speak, eager for conversation. He said, “That period has passed, O beautiful one, when no means of appeasement could be found because of anger. Even by your own will, time did not move, nor did you change color; your nature has seized my mind, O lovely-browed one, and brought me concern. How has that supreme feeling been forgotten, when, by the union of our own will, no causes for impurity of mind exist there? If, like ordinary people, there is any cause of displeasure between us, then such a thing does not exist anywhere else in the moving and unmoving world. I am established at the summit of Agni, you are situated at the peak of Soma; the universe, composed of Agni and Soma, is sustained by us both. For the welfare of the world, as we act with bodies formed by our own will, if we were separated, the world would be left without support. There is another cause here, determined by scriptural reasoning—just as word and meaning are inseparable, so too is this world, both stationary and moving. You are the nectar of speech directly, I am the supreme nectar of meaning; both are immortal, so how could separation between us arise? You are the one who brings knowledge, I am the one to be known through your awareness; how could there be division between us, whose nature is knowledge and the known? I do not create or recreate this world through action; since everything is attained by command alone, command is indeed superior. Because sovereignty is based solely on command and is characterized by independence, what kind of sovereignty would I have if separated from command? There is never any state of separation between us; for the sake of the gods’ affairs, I have performed actions only as a display. There is nothing unknown to you, so why have you become angry? Then, for the protection of the three worlds, your anger has also been directed at me. Whatever is harmful to beings is certainly not found in you, O Priyamvada, the supreme Lord manifest.