Their minds remained steadfast, absorbed in honoring their husbands and thoughts of devotion. Yet, there were others, tormented by desire, whose senses were bewildered by passion, and it was to this place that they were drawn. Like female elephants following a maddened leader, they trailed after him, their hearts aflame. Filled with anger, all of them cried out together, "May his emblem fall to the ground!" In that very moment, the three-pronged, blue-red one vanished from their sight. Swiftly, he entered the netherworld, piercing the cosmic egg from above. The entire realm of Pātāla became crowded with beings, both moving and unmoving, as his presence filled every corner. He journeyed on to seek out Mādhava, the Lord, at the ocean of Kṣīroda. There, he spoke: "O Lord of the worlds, O Mighty One, for what reason are the worlds so disturbed?" For when the emblem fell, the earth, burdened by its weight, trembled in response. The gods, anxious and eager, pleaded, "Let us go there, O Lord of gods," repeating their request again and again. Thus, they all arrived at the place where the liṅga of Bhava stood. Filled with wonder, the Lord entered Pātāla, but, O Brahman, even after searching, he could not find its end and, astonished, returned. The wielder of the discus too went forth, O great sage, but he also could not discover the end. With hands joined in reverence, they began to praise the god with devotion. "O bearer of the clouds, O poet, O Śarva, O three-eyed one, O Śaṅkara, O destroyer of Dakṣa’s sacrifice, O embodiment of time, I bow to you. You are the infinite, the blessed Lord, the all-pervading one; I bow to you." Then the Lord, present in his own form, spoke these words, his voice resounding: "Those who praise me, though afflicted by desire and suffering, become truly at peace." Encouraged, they said, "Let us accept this, and again praise the god." And it was agreed: "Let this indeed be accepted; in no way should it be otherwise." Brahmā himself then took up the golden, tawny liṅga. Among those who followed, the third was Kālavadana, and the fourth was Kapālin. His disciple came to be known as Gopāyana. Gopāyana’s own disciple was the king Ṛṣabha, called Somakeśvara. His disciple was a Vaiśya named Krātheśvara, O sage, and his disciple in turn was Karṇodara, a Śūdra by birth but a great ascetic. Having fulfilled all four stages of life, he went to his own abode. At a distance, an archer stood before him, preparing to torment him. He beheld Smara, the god of love, descending from the tip of his topknot to his feet. Suddenly, O Brahmin, a fire began to burn from the feet upward, like a blazing forest fire. The archer cast aside his excellent bow, which broke into five pieces. From those pieces, a campaka tree arose, rich in fragrance and perfect in form. From that, the kesara forest was born, known as bakula, O sage. The lovely pāṭalā tree also sprang forth, adorned with bhringarāja flowers. The jāti plant appeared, shining like five radiant clusters in the moonlight. From that heap of earth, O sage, various kinds of mallī plants arose, both those endowed with jāti and those personally fashioned by the god himself, coming into being in that sacred place.