If a thousand suns were to rise together in the sky, their combined brilliance would only begin to match the radiance of that great soul. In such a place, the sage beheld the entire universe, its countless divisions laid before him, and his eyes widened in wonder, O goddess. Filled with awe, the sage bowed his head to the Lord, palms joined, and spoke: “If the Lord would grant me a boon, O Keśava, let it be for your devotee. May this king, together with his army and vehicles, having been nourished in my hermitage, return to his home tomorrow.” Hearing this, the Lord of the gods became the granter of boons. He bestowed upon the sage mastery of the mind and a jewel of dazzling brilliance. Having granted these gifts, the god vanished, and the sage Gauramukha returned to his sacred hermitage, accompanied by many seers. There, the foremost of Brahmins contemplated a house shaped like the peak of the Himalayas—towering like a great cloud, shining with the rays of the moon, and rising a hundred stories high. With the boon received from Vishnu, the Brahmin then created thousands upon hundreds of millions of such houses in every way. Around these dwellings, he fashioned walls and gardens filled with the calls of cuckoos and many noble birds, and planted campaka, ashoka, punnaga, naga, and kesara trees. In all the gardens surrounding the houses were trees of every kind, and even stables for elephants and stalls for horses. The Brahmin stocked stores with every kind of food: things to eat, to enjoy, to lick, to suck—of many varieties—and heaps of cooked rice, all arranged in vessels of gold. When all was ready, the Brahmin addressed the king of great splendor: “Let all your armies enter the houses.” Thus invited, the king entered the house, massive as a mountain, and his attendants swiftly entered its inner quarters. Once they had entered, sage Gauramukha took up the divine jewel and spoke to the king: “For your bathing, eating, and relief from the fatigue of your journey, O king, I will send maidens and servants to you.” Having said this, the foremost of Brahmins placed the auspicious Vaishnava jewel in a secluded spot before the king. Instantly, thousands of women of divine form appeared. They were most delicate, with beautiful limbs, lovely cheeks, charming bodies, fine hair, and beautiful eyes; some took up golden vessels and set forth. Groups of these women and male attendants—all the king’s servants—emerged, bringing food and every kind of garment. The women quickly bathed all the servants on the royal road, as well as the men, horses, and elephants. Various musical instruments resounded; as the king bathed, some women danced, others sang, just as when Indra bathes. Thus, attended with divine service, the great-minded king bathed; filled with wonder, he pondered, “Is this the power of the sage, or of austerity, or of the jewel?” After bathing, he donned auspicious and excellent garments, and then, following the prescribed manner, enjoyed a variety of foods. As the great sage worshipped the king, so too did he honor the king’s attendants. While the king, his attendants, army, and vehicles dined, the sun, glowing with a reddish hue, moved toward the mountain of setting. Night arrived, adorned with the bright autumn moon and shining stars; the moon, consort of Rohini, spread gentle radiance, blending harmoniously with its mild qualities. The illustrious Bhrigu, the lord of the gods, and the preceptor of the demons rose with the dark-rayed sun; but when they entered the lunar fortnight, they did not shine, and by their inherent nature, the minds of embodied beings were influenced. The son of the earth relinquished his deep redness, and Rahu, pale, was released by the moon’s bright rays; the natural disposition of the world, among gods and demons, was followed, and the virtuous king was powerful by his own nature. In the circle of rays called “lord of the white,” pure as the grinding stone of the sun’s doctrine, the comet did not cause great darkness; at that time, the movement among the skilled was clear. The king’s son, illuminating the world with his deeds, shone with intelligence heightened by Mercury’s rise; the desire of the attendants, long fostered by proximity, surely found agreement among the virtuous. The comet made the sky tawny for a long time, firmly established on the path of the king and the gods; an evil person never, in the company of the good, displays pure skill in his own actions. Even those illuminated by the moon’s rays shone brightly at every step; those born of noble families, upholding the law of origin, attained great elevation through union with powerful rays. The son of the king, born of the sun and Varuna, completely overcame those attached to the three faults; established in the Kauśika lineage, Vedic rituals were never performed otherwise. That child of mine, who once united the dualities and worshipped the royal throne, shone for a long time with fortune and intelligence, and by constant remembrance of Vishnu, the unattainable became firm. Thus, such a night passed for the sage in the auspicious hermitage, blessed for the unconquerable king, with attendants, vassals, noble horses and elephants, and worship with fine garments, ornaments, and other offerings. In that night, adorned with excellent jewels and splendid cloths, the best beds were arranged in the houses, and beautiful women, radiant in their gestures, enhanced the brilliance. The king dismissed the landholders and all his attendants to their homes; when they had departed, he slept well, surrounded by noble women, like the lord of the gods in heaven, full of glory. Thus, the noble king and his attendants, with joyful minds, slept well at that time, due to the influence of the sage. When the night had passed, the king saw that the women had vanished, and so had the houses. The splendid seats and water vessels had become invisible. Struck with amazement, the king began to ponder, distressed.