After some time had passed, he addressed his beloved with heartfelt words. She, perceiving the depth of his insistence, replied to him, though it was difficult for her. She spoke of the delightful city of Panchala, nestled on the northern bank of the Ganges. When famine struck their homeland, the two journeyed southward in search of sustenance. In that southern land, she recalled, her father had five sons, herself included. The youngest was her own brother, while the eldest was the fifth. When her eldest brother departed, her parents met their destined end. In that place, she remained steadfast in her devotion, regularly bathing and honoring the gods and Brahmins. But lamenting her fate, she confessed that, having adopted the conduct of a fallen woman, she had destroyed her lineage. Through her most sinful actions, she led her companion into a terrible hell. Overcome with distress, she wept aloud, recalling her once-noble family. Hearing her sorrowful cries, the womenfolk gathered around her. By various means, the women revived the man who had fallen. Once restored, he recounted the entire story and spoke of the greatness of their lineage. Yet, he became dejected, burdened by the forbidden union. He reflected: if a Brahmin is born as a murderer of Brahmins or a drinker of liquor, and if one approaches his mother, teacher’s wife, sister, daughter, or daughter-in-law, or kills a Brahmin, drinks liquor, slays a woman, or approaches his teacher’s bed, such acts bring grave consequences. Upon hearing these words, Panchali regarded only her eldest brother. Jewels, garments, wealth, and grain—whatever was present—were gathered for the adornment of Kalinjar and especially for the gardens. For her own purification, she kindled the sacrificial fire. The Panchala, too, with proper procedure, bowed to the sage, his teacher. He performed the rites suitable for death at that place. He purchased villages and gave them to the Brahmins, distributing wealth among them for the purpose of the sacrificial session. Having bathed at Krishna’s sacred site, he beheld the deity and bowed in reverence. He built a temple there, instructing the merchants to assist. "O deity," he exclaimed, "your divine knowledge is wondrous and awe-inspiring." He declared, "I have come, beginning from that time in Mathura, O teacher. By your pure gaze, O sage, I was once beheld. By the power of Krishna and the Ganga, I have again attained purity. That truth has arisen within me—the sin of forbidden approach is gone. Grant me permission, O lord; I bow to your feet." As he was about to enter the fire in that place, a bodiless voice spoke from the sky: "Why, and out of fear of whom, do you, resolved upon death, act thus? This place, marked by the discus-bearing foot, is as auspicious and exalted as Brahma's own realm. Any sin committed at this holy site becomes as hard as diamond to remove. Yet, by bathing here even once, a person is freed from the sin of killing a Brahmin. There is nothing equal to bathing at the five sacred fords here—of this there is no doubt.