With music, singing, and graceful dancing, the maidens adorned themselves with splendid ornaments and experienced the heights of joy, O Rāghava. Their beauty was unmatched on earth, each one radiant in form and virtue. Entering the garden grounds, they moved like stars gliding through the clouds, enchanting all with their presence. It was then that the wind-god, Vāyu—the lord of all beings—beheld these hundred maidens. Struck by their youth and loveliness, he addressed them, saying, “I desire you all; you shall become my wives. Abandon your human state, and you will attain long life. Among mortals, youth is fleeting, but you shall enjoy unfading youth and become immortal.” Hearing these words from the wind-god, whose actions are effortless and swift, the hundred maidens laughed gently and replied, “O best of the gods, you move within all beings; your power is known to all. Why do you disregard us so? We are the daughters of King Kuśanābha. We practice austerity to protect ourselves and remain in our proper place. Let not such a time come, O divine one, when you would dishonor our truthful father. We seek a husband through him, according to our duty. Our father is our lord and our highest deity; whoever he chooses for us, that one shall be our husband.” But the wind-god, Hari, angered by their steadfastness and refusal, entered their bodies with his mighty power and broke them—leaving their forms twisted and reduced to the size of a finger. Terrified and afflicted, the maidens returned to their father’s palace, their eyes brimming with tears, their modesty and distress evident. When King Kuśanābha saw his beloved daughters so broken and filled with sorrow, his heart was overcome with grief. He asked them, “What is this, my daughters? Who has disregarded righteousness? By whom have you all been made crooked? You move about, yet do not speak.” With a heavy sigh, the king composed himself, awaiting their reply. The hundred maidens, wise and gentle, touched their father’s feet in reverence and spoke, “O king, the wind, who pervades all, sought to violate us, following an unrighteous path and disregarding righteousness. We are under our father’s authority and not independent. If you give us to him, then we are his. But when he did not accept our words and persisted in his desire, he struck us harshly, and thus we are afflicted.” Hearing their account, the supremely righteous and resplendent Kuśanābha addressed his daughters with compassion and wisdom. “Patience is the greatest duty of those who are forbearing, my daughters. You have acted in unity and preserved our lineage. Adornment is for women, but patience is for men; yet such forbearance is difficult even for the gods. The patience you have shown is without exception—patience is charity, patience is truth, patience is sacrifice. Patience is fame, patience is righteousness, and the world itself rests upon patience.” Having thus spoken, the king let his daughters go, his heart filled with understanding. Desiring to restore his daughters’ happiness, the wise king consulted with his ministers, considering the proper time, place, and worthy recipient for their marriage. At that very time, in the city of Kāmpilya, a radiant sage named Cūlī, steadfast in celibacy and virtue, was engaged in deep Brahmanical austerity. A Gandharva maiden named Somadā, daughter of Ūrmilā, attended upon him with devotion and service. Pleased with her, the sage said, “I am pleased with you. May good be yours; what shall I do to please you?” Somadā, delighted and skillful in speech, replied, “Blessed with Brahmanical splendor and austerity, O great ascetic, I desire a righteous son endowed with Brahmanical penance. I am without a husband, and I am not anyone’s wife; having approached you in this way, you alone are worthy to grant me a son.” Pleased by her service and request, the sage granted her a son born of his mind—a son of great Brahmanical prowess, named Brahmadatta. This king Brahmadatta, radiant and virtuous, resided in Kāmpilya, shining with the splendor of the lord of gods. King Kuśanābha, discerning the noble qualities of Brahmadatta, resolved to give him his hundred daughters in marriage. Summoning the illustrious Brahmadatta, the king joyfully gave his daughters to him. In due order, Brahmadatta took their hands in marriage, like the lord of gods with his consorts. At the very touch of Brahmadatta’s hand, the deformity and affliction caused by the wind-god vanished, and the hundred maidens shone once more with supreme beauty. Seeing his daughters thus restored and released from their suffering, King Kuśanābha was filled with delight, rejoicing again and again. Having married his daughters to Brahmadatta, the king sent him forth together with his wives, accompanied by teachers, and blessed their journey.