In the forenoon, a Brahmin carefully arranged his mat, water pot, and staff in their proper place, but something seemed amiss. He wondered aloud, “What have you forgotten? Why have you not come quickly to this place?” Hearing these words, the sage addressed sat in silence, deeply contemplative. Meanwhile, O goddess, that eminent Brahmin became absorbed in thought. He pondered, “How has so much time passed? What did the Brahmins say to me? How did this moment arrive?” Uncertain and bewildered, he questioned the nature of his experience. Then, O goddess, I approached that Brahmin and noticed his confusion. “What is this?” I asked. “You appear bewildered. Or what have you seen?” Thus addressed, the Brahmin placed his head upon the ground in humility. He then spoke, his voice filled with sorrow, “Ah, O god, O twice-born, these Brahmins speak to me, O teacher of the world: you have arrived in the afternoon. What place have you forgotten?” He continued, revealing the cause of his distress: “I became a hunter, and my wife was born in the hunter’s lineage. From her, three sons were born, and also three daughters. Once, I went to bathe in the Ganges, as one dwelling by the riverbank; emerging, I myself again attained the form praised by sages.” He lamented, “What wrongful act have I committed while serving Madhava? What improper thing have I consumed while serving Achyuta? Tell me this truthfully, by which I have gone to hell. Indeed, I have previously informed you, being deceived by illusion.” Hearing his words, full of lamentation and compassion, I consoled him: “Do not grieve, O foremost of Brahmins, for suffering arising from your own fault, by which you have attained sorrow and entered the animal womb. I have already spoken before; listen, O eminent Brahmin. I grant you divine enjoyments, or earthly ones as you desire. The Vaiṣṇava illusion has been seen, which you, O Brahmin, desired; and for fifty years, not even in the house of the hunter.” I continued, “Moreover, I will tell you something else—listen to this, O best of twice-born. You have not performed any act, whether auspicious or inauspicious. Whatever wrongful deeds or transgressions you have committed, and whatever was done by you in a previous existence, by which you have now attained this great state—the pure twice-born who are my devotees, whom you did not greet, and those pure devotees of Bhagavan are truly my embodiments. I am known here, O best of Brahmins, by them—of this there is no doubt. Those twice-born who desire to see me, they too are my devotees. Especially in the Kali age, I am present in the form of a Brahmin. Whoever wishes to attain me here, for him there is nothing unutterable.” “Go, O Brahmin—you are perfected; when you relinquish your life-breath, you shall attain.” Having spoken thus, O fair one, I vanished right there. After performing a most difficult deed, I reached Śvetadvīpa, armed with bow, quiver, arrows, and sword, endowed with the power and prowess of illusion. By illusion—what is there for you, O Earth? You are not fit to know my illusion. Thus, O Earth, this account of my illusion, endowed with great power, has been told to you. Among stories, it is the greatest story; among austerities, it is supreme, O scorcher of foes. Whoever recites this always among devotees, but does not proclaim it among non-devotees—who, when asked, recites it before my devotees, even if they are Śūdras, whoever, rising at dawn, O Earth, recites it with firm resolve—then, after the full course of time, the man reached his end. And, O Earth, whoever listens daily to this great narrative, shall be blessed.