The illustrious goddess Varuṇi appeared, radiant as a second sun, her brilliance lighting up the space around her. Approaching the resplendent Sun, she explained the purpose of her visit: she had come on behalf of King Saṃvaraṇa, seeking the hand of his daughter. “It is for Saṃvaraṇa’s daughter that I have come,” she said. “You ought to give her to him.” The gods, honoring the best of the twice-born sages who had come as emissary on Saṃvaraṇa’s behalf, listened attentively. Meanwhile, the maiden herself, the Sun’s daughter, remembered the prince she had once seen. With hands joined in reverence, she addressed Varuṇi, her words filled with longing and respect: “I saw that prince in the forest—he shone like the child of an immortal. By his marks, I know him. His hips are like a lion’s, his waist slender and marked with three graceful folds. His hands and feet are shaped like lotus petals, and his head shines, round and noble like a parasol. His fingers are long and well-formed; his teeth are beautiful, as are the nails on his hands and feet. The prince is red in five places, dark in four, and bent in three. My lord, my husband, had once before considered this prince upon the earth.” With gentle honesty, she continued, “The wise do not speak of giving to another when another is desired. O lord, forgive me.” Understanding her heart’s wish, the Sun was pleased and spoke joyfully: “That very Saṃvaraṇa, son of Ṛkṣa, is now coming to my hermitage by name.” Soon, King Saṃvaraṇa arrived and, upon seeing the sage Vasiṣṭha, bowed his head in deep reverence. Then his gaze fell upon Tapatī, the radiant daughter of the Sun. In wonder, he asked, “Who is this lady, O best of twice-born?” Varuṇi replied to the king, “At your request, I entreated the Sun. He has given her, and I have brought her to your hermitage.” Hearing this, the king was overjoyed. According to the proper rites, he took Tapatī’s hand in marriage. She, in turn, delighted in the splendid palaces of her new home, just as the daughter of the Daityas once delighted in mighty Indra’s heaven. In time, a son was born to Saṃvaraṇa and Tapatī. He was consecrated with all the sacred rites from birth, nourished with clarified butter as fire is fed. At the age of nine, he underwent the rite of initiation and became thoroughly versed in the Vedas and scriptures. On earth, he became renowned as Puruṣottama, known as Kuru, son of Saṃvaraṇa. Kuru grew in wisdom and stature, and when the time came, he sought to arrange a marriage within a noble family. For Kuru’s sake, a suitable bride was requested and given, and together Kuru and the slender-waisted Paulomī enjoyed happiness, like Maghavan (Indra) with his consort. Recognizing Kuru’s virtues, he was anointed king according to the prescribed rites. Kuru ruled with compassion and strength, protecting the earth and its people as a father cares for his own children. He became the guardian of all, a mighty protector of his subjects. As long as his fame endured, he dwelt among the gods in honor. The king traveled across the whole earth, seeking renown. Having achieved his aims and fully satisfied, he then turned inward, seeking spiritual fulfillment. He approached Sarasvatī, the daughter of Brahmā, born of the sacred Plakṣa tree, whose tongue is dear to Hari. The blessed goddess stood on the riverbank, bathed by countless sacred fords. Again, he journeyed to the northern altar of Brahmā, approaching from all sides, an expanse of five yojanas. Because it lay to the north, the learned called it the “northern altar.” There, Śaṃbhu, the lord of the gods and protector of the worlds, had performed sacrifices. To the south was Virajā, the altar bestowing endless fruits. The Samantapañcaka was also renowned as an altar, supreme and imperishable, the highest of the north. With devotion, the king declared, “I shall do, I shall cultivate, all desires as you wish.” Thus, in reverence and fulfillment, he continued the noble traditions of his ancestors, upholding dharma upon the earth.