The generous Brahmin, eager to honor his royal guest, prepared a magnificent feast. He filled golden vessels with every kind of food—dishes to eat, treats to savor, delicacies to lick and to suck—creating a bounty of countless varieties, with great heaps of steaming cooked rice. When all was ready, he turned to the illustrious king and invited him: “Let your entire army enter these houses.” At the Brahmin’s invitation, the radiant king stepped into the grand house, vast and solid as a mountain, followed swiftly by his attendants, who made their way into the inner chambers. Once they had entered, the sage Gauramukha took up a divine jewel and addressed the king with reverence. “For your bathing, for your meal, and to ease the fatigue of your journey, O king, I shall send maidens and servants to attend you.” With these words, the foremost of Brahmins placed the auspicious Vaishnava jewel in a secluded spot before the king. The moment that pure, radiant gem touched the ground, thousands of women of celestial beauty appeared, their forms delicate, their limbs graceful, cheeks lovely, bodies enchanting, hair fine, and eyes shining. Some of these women took up golden vessels and set out to serve. Groups of these women, along with male attendants and all the king’s servants, emerged, bearing food and every kind of garment. The women moved swiftly, giving baths to all the king’s servants right on the royal road, and not only to the men, but to the horses and elephants as well. The air filled with the music of many instruments, and as the king bathed, some women danced while others sang, creating a scene as splendid as the bathing of Indra himself. Thus, surrounded by divine service, the great-hearted king bathed. Filled with wonder, he pondered to himself, “Is this the power of the sage, of austerity, or of the jewel?” After bathing, he donned auspicious and excellent garments, and, following the proper customs, the noble king enjoyed a variety of delicious foods. The great sage honored the king with worship, and extended the same reverence to the king’s attendants. As the king, his army, and all his retinue feasted, the sun, glowing red, drifted toward the mountain of its setting. Night arrived, adorned by the bright autumn moon and shining stars. The moon, consort of Rohini, cast a gentle, soothing light over all. The illustrious Bhrigu, together with the lord of the gods and the preceptor of the demons, rose with the dark-rayed sun; yet, upon entering the lunar fortnight, their brilliance faded, for the minds of creatures are shaped by their own inherent nature. The son of the earth let go of his deep redness, and Rahu, pale, was freed by the moon’s bright rays. The world—gods and demons alike—followed its natural order, while the virtuous king’s power shone forth from his own nature. Within the circle of rays called “lord of the white,” pure as the grinding stone of the sun’s doctrine, even a comet could not bring darkness; at such a time, the actions of the wise were clear. The king’s son, illuminating the world with his deeds, shone with intelligence heightened by Mercury’s ascent, and the long-held wishes of the attendants found harmony among the virtuous. Though the comet tinged the sky with tawny light, it remained on the paths of the king and the gods. Yet, an evil person, even among the good, could not display true skill in his actions. Those brightened by the moon’s rays shone ever more, and those of noble birth, upholding the law of their lineage, rose to great heights when joined with powerful rays. The king’s son, descended from the sun and Varuna, overcame those bound by the three faults, and in the Kauśika lineage, Vedic rituals were always performed properly. That child of mine, who once united the dualities and worshiped the royal throne, continued to shine with fortune and intelligence, and by constant remembrance of Vishnu, made the unattainable secure. Thus the night passed in the sage’s auspicious hermitage, blessed for the unconquerable king, his attendants, vassals, noble horses and elephants, all honored with fine garments, ornaments, and offerings. In that night, adorned with jewels and splendid cloths, the finest beds were prepared in the houses, and beautiful women, radiant in their gestures, enhanced the brilliance of the scene. There, the king dismissed the landholders and all his attendants to their homes. When they had departed, he slept peacefully, surrounded by noble women, like the lord of the gods in heaven, resplendent in glory. The noble king and his attendants, their minds joyful, slept soundly, all due to the influence of the sage. When dawn broke, the king awoke to find that all those women had vanished, as had the wondrous houses. The splendid seats and water vessels had become invisible. Struck with amazement and distress, the king pondered deeply. Again and again, he thought, “How might I obtain that gem?” King Durjaya began to devise a plan. He resolved, “I shall take that wish-fulfilling gem from him.” With this thought, the king set out from the hermitage, going a short distance with his retinue. Then he sent his minister, Virocana, to request the gem from the sage Gauramukha. Virocana approached the sage, ready to make the request: “O king, vessel of jewels, let the gem be given to him.” Hearing this, Gauramukha was angered. “The Brahmin receives, the king gives—yet you, once king again, now beg so pitifully? Go and tell this to the wicked king Durjaya yourself: ‘Go quickly, evildoer, lest the world abandon you.’” Having spoken thus, the sage went eastward to gather sacred grass and firewood, his mind fixed on the gem, destroyer of enemies. The messenger returned to the king and reported all that the Brahmin had said. Enraged by the Brahmin’s words, Durjaya ordered his vassal Nila, “Go at once, seize the Brahmin’s gem, and return quickly, by any means.” Thus commanded, Nila set out with a great army, heading to the sage’s forest hermitage.