Pramloca, the celestial nymph, stood before the sage and spoke with sincerity, “How could I utter a falsehood before you, O Brahmin? Especially when you, a seeker of truth, have questioned me today.” Hearing her honest words, Soma recounted, the sage was overwhelmed with remorse. Again and again, he reproached himself, exclaiming, “Shame on me!” He lamented, “My austerities are lost, the wealth that comes from knowledge of Brahman is destroyed; discernment is ruined by one who brings the delusion of women. Brahman, which transcends the six waves of existence, is to be realized through self-mastery, yet my mind has been swept away by this great, all-consuming desire. All my vows and the actions that lead to Vedic knowledge have been lost through association, along the path that leads to countless hells.” Thus, deeply reproaching himself, the sage, a knower of dharma, turned to the apsaras seated before him and said, “Go, sinner, wherever you wish; what you were sent to do has been accomplished—my mind has been disturbed by your gestures, as commanded by the king of the gods. I will not reduce you to ashes with the fire of my anger, for I have shared seven steps of friendship with you, as is the way of the virtuous. But what fault is yours, or why should I be angry with you? The fault is entirely mine, for I have not mastered my senses. For the sake of pleasing Indra, you caused the loss of my austerities; you, who are to be censured, have fallen into great delusion, and are truly to be despised.” As the sage spoke these harsh words, Pramloca began to tremble violently, sweat pouring from her body. Seeing her trembling, her limbs weary, yet remaining chaste, the sage, still angry, commanded, “Go, go!” Thus rebuked, Pramloca departed from the hermitage. Ascending into the sky, she wiped away her sweat with the leaves of the trees. As she cleansed her limbs, drenched with sweat, she used the tender red leaves of a tree. At that moment, the embryo placed in her body by the sage emerged from her, taking the form of goosebumps and sweat. The trees received that embryo, and the wind shaped it into one. Nourished with cow’s milk by Soma himself, it gradually grew. Born from the tip of a tree, a beautiful-faced girl was named Māriṣā; the trees would give her to the sage, and Soma urged that his anger should subside. Thus, Māriṣā became the child of Kaṇḍu, and also emerged from the trees; she was Soma’s child, as well as the daughter of the wind and Pramlocā. When his austerities were thus exhausted, venerable Kaṇḍu, O Maitreya, went to the abode of Viṣṇu known as Puruṣottama. There, with one-pointed devotion, Kaṇḍu worshipped Hari, reciting the supreme Brahman hymn, standing with arms raised, his mind unwavering in yogic concentration. The Pracetas then asked, “O sage, we wish to hear the supreme hymn to Brahman by which Kaṇḍu worshipped Keśava.” Soma replied, “Viṣṇu is the supreme, the limitless, the highest of the high, beyond all others, the form of the destroyer of evil. He is the goal of Brahman, the ultimate among the supreme, the highest beyond all. He is the cause, the cause of causes, and the reason even for that; in all effects, he manifests together with all forms of agents and actions. He is Brahman, the Lord, he is all beings, the imperishable master of creatures; he is Viṣṇu, eternal, unborn, unchanging, untouched by any defect. As he is Brahman, imperishable, unborn, and eternal, the Supreme Person, so may faults such as passion depart and be calmed within me.” Soma continued, “By reciting this supreme hymn called the Supreme Brahman, Kaṇḍu attained the highest perfection, having worshipped Keśava. This Māriṣā was formerly as I have described; I tell you about her, for her story is so important that its telling will bear fruit for you.” In a previous birth, Māriṣā was childless, and after her husband died, O noble ones, this devoted wife of Bhīpa worshipped Viṣṇu with great devotion. Pleased by her worship, Viṣṇu appeared before her and said, “Choose a boon, O auspicious one.” She then spoke her heartfelt wish: “O Lord, because of my early widowhood, I have been born in vain, unfortunate, fruitless, and without purpose, O Master of the world. May I have worthy husbands in every birth, and by your grace, may I have a son equal to Prajāpati. May he possess noble lineage, character, age, truthfulness, generosity, promptness, reliability, virtue, service to elders, and gratitude. May I be endowed with beauty and wealth, pleasing to all, and, by your grace, may I be born not from a womb, O lotus-eyed one.” Soma narrated that when she spoke thus, the Lord of the gods, Hṛṣīkeśa, raised her as she bowed and, being the supreme giver of boons, addressed her: “In a single birth, you will have ten husbands of great valor, renowned for their noble deeds. And you will obtain a son of immense strength and power, endowed with the qualities of Prajāpati, O beautiful one. He will be the progenitor of lineages in this world, and his offspring will fill the entire three worlds. And you, O virtuous one, will be born not from a womb, endowed with beauty and noble qualities, pleasing to the minds of men, by my grace.” Having spoken thus, the god vanished from her sight, and Māriṣā was born, who is now your wife, O sons of kings. Thus, at Soma’s words, the Pracetas accepted Māriṣā as their wife, setting aside their anger toward the trees.