The sage Gauramukha, honoring his vow of hospitality, spoke respectfully to the king, “I will do so; let your horses be unyoked, O noble one.” With that, he fell silent, steadfast in his observance. King Durjaya, accompanied by his attendants and five full divisions of his army, stood there with devotion, quietly wondering what food this ascetic could possibly offer to such a multitude in this remote place. As the king waited, the sage Gauramukha invited him in and pondered deeply, “What food should I give him?” Immersed in this thought, the great sage concentrated his mind, and at that very moment, Lord Hari Nārāyaṇa, the lord of the gods, became present in his heart. Remembering Nārāyaṇa, the best of sages entered the sacred Gaṅgā river, seeking to propitiate the Lord. At this point, the Earth herself asked the great mountain, “How did Gauramukha please Viṣṇu? I am eager to hear this in detail.” With deep reverence, the sage began to praise Viṣṇu, offering salutations: “Salutations always to Viṣṇu; to you, who wear yellow garments; to you of primordial form; to you who take the form of water. Salutations to you, who abide in all things, who recline upon the waters, who are the earth, whose essence is fire. Salutations to you, who are air and space, the Lord of all beings, the master, the desire within the heart. You are the syllable Oṃ, the vaṣaṭ call, present everywhere, the origin of all the gods, and yourself without origin. You are Bhū, Bhuvaḥ, Jana, and Mahaḥ. You are tapas, you are truth, and in you abides all that moves and does not move. “From you, O Lord, has this entire world arisen; from you have come forth the Ṛg and other Vedas. From you, the scriptures and sacrifices have been born. Trees, herbs, forest plants, cattle, birds, and serpents—all arise from you, O Janārdana. O Lord of gods, even for me, a king named Durjaya has come as a guest, and I am eager to offer him hospitality. Today, O Lord of gods, I am poor and bowed in devotion. Please grant me a supply of food. Whatever I touch with my hand, whatever I see with my eyes—be it tree, grass, or root—may all that become the four kinds of food. And whatever else I contemplate in my mind, let all that be accomplished for me. Salutations to you, Supreme Lord.” Thus praised, the Lord of gods, Keśava, was satisfied and revealed his divine form to the sage. With a mind filled with grace, the Lord spoke: “Speak, O brāhmaṇa, choose the highest boon.” Hearing this, the sage slowly opened his eyes and beheld Janārdana, radiant in yellow garments, holding conch and mace, seated upon Garuḍa, shining like twelve suns. If a thousand suns were to rise in the sky at once, such would be the brilliance of that great soul. In that one place, the sage saw the entire universe, divided in countless ways, and his eyes widened with wonder. With head bowed and palms joined, the sage spoke: “If you grant me a boon, O Keśava, let it be for your devotee. May this king, with his army and vehicles, having been fed in my hermitage, return happily to his home tomorrow.” Thus addressed, the Lord of gods became the granter of boons, granting Gauramukha mastery of the mind and a jewel of great brilliance. Having bestowed these gifts, the Lord vanished, and the sage returned to his hermitage, attended by many seers. There, the foremost of Brahmins contemplated a wondrous house, shaped like a peak of the Himalayas, towering like a great cloud, shining like the rays of the moon, with a hundred stories. By the power of Viṣṇu’s boon, the sage created thousands, hundreds of millions, of such houses in every way. Around them he made walls and gardens, filled with the calls of cuckoos and noble birds, and planted with campaka, ashoka, punnaga, naga, and kesara trees. In all those house-gardens stood trees of many kinds, with stables for elephants and horses as well. The Brahmin then filled vast stores with every kind of food—things to eat, to enjoy, to lick, and to suck, of many varieties, with heaps of cooked rice in golden vessels. When all was ready, he said to the king, “Let all your armies enter the houses.” The king, radiant with splendor, entered that house, massive as a mountain, and his attendants quickly followed into the inner chambers. As they entered, the sage Gauramukha took up the divine jewel and addressed the king: “For your bathing, eating, and relief from the fatigue of the journey, O king, I will send maidens and servants to you.” Having spoken thus, the sage placed the auspicious Vaishnava jewel in a secluded spot before the king. Instantly, thousands of women of divine form emerged—delicate, with beautiful limbs, charming bodies, fine hair, and lovely eyes. Some took up golden vessels and set forth. Groups of women and male attendants, along with all the king’s servants, went out, bringing food and all kinds of garments. These women quickly gave baths to all the servants, right on the royal road, and also to the men, horses, and elephants, refreshing them after their long journey. Thus, through the sage’s devotion and the Lord’s grace, the king and his vast retinue received perfect hospitality in that miraculous hermitage.