O mighty lord of the Daityas, it was thus ordained: let the Kshatriyas be steadfast in their sacred duty, ever devoted to the protection of the people. Those who make their living through trade and even those in the oldest professions were directed to tend to livestock, supporting society through their care. The Shudras, O best among the Asuras, were instructed always to act in accordance with your command, upholding the order you established. In this way, righteousness would flourish, and as virtue grew, so too would the rise of noble kings. With the increase of righteousness, your own prosperity would blossom; but when virtue waned, loss and decline were sure to follow. Bali, the great Daitya king, listened with humility and devotion, declaring to the sage, “Whatever you command, I shall do.” Thus, Bali, ever righteous, ruled over the three worlds. Compelled by the noble nature within him, he sought refuge in Brahma. His own radiance illuminated his vast realm, shining upon both gods and demons alike. Yet, O best of the gods, the very nature of the divine order was shaken by Bali’s might. Not only was your own power diminished, but even the sun itself seemed weakened by his strength. None but Hari, the one with a thousand heads and ten hundred feet, could restore what was rightfully within the domain of true righteousness. It was he who would reclaim from Bali what belonged to the path of dharma. Seeing Indra and the other gods cast down and dejected, Hari journeyed to the Vibhitaka grove. There, righteousness stood firmly on all four feet, upheld by each of the four castes, O Narada. Compassion, charity, kindness, service, and sacrificial acts prevailed everywhere. Yet even the mighty Brahman was subdued again and again by the power of Bali. The foremost among men, ever vigilant in the protection of their people and in the practice of righteousness, bore witness to these times. The fortune of the three worlds, the bestower of boons, now came to Bali, lord of the Daityas. One day, this fortune—personified as a radiant queen—approached Bali and asked, “Who are you? Tell me, for what purpose have you come here?” She continued, “O Bali, listen: compelled by force, I have come to you as a queen. Maghavan has abandoned me; therefore, I have come to seek refuge with you.” This queen was not alone. One among them was clad in white garments, adorned with white garlands and ointments. Another wore red, with matching garlands and fragrant ointments. A third was dressed in yellow, golden in hue, adorned with yellow garlands and scents. The fourth was robed in blue, with blue garlands, blue fragrances, and ointments. The one dressed in pure white, endowed with virtue, was seated upon an elephant. The red-garbed, passionate one rode a horse. The auspicious one in yellow, radiant as gold, was seated in a chariot. The fourth, clothed in blue, was mounted upon a bull. The Brahmins and others called the white-formed one Sarasvati. The Kshatriyas proclaimed the red-hued lady as Jayashri. The Vaishyas revered the yellow-garbed, golden-bodied one. The Shudras, with great devotion, praised the blue-complexioned goddess. Thus did the god who bears the discus distinguish these forms. The histories, ancient tales, the Vedas with their branches, and all prescribed instructions—along with pearls, gold, silver, chariots, horses, elephants, ornaments, cows, buffaloes, donkeys, camels, lands of gold, and garments—were all part of the wealth and wisdom of the world. Yet, among all the various classes and forms, there was but one origin, one source from which all was established.