At length being much depressed with grief, they said weeping to Krishnù, “You are a great impostor; first of all by playing on the flute you stole away, unawares, our mind and thoughts, now being altogether without compassion, and practising deceit, you wish to destroy us by harsh speeches.”
Again they said, “We have left our families, relatives, homes, husbands, and have put out of our minds the reproach of our relations, to which our conduct has exposed us. We are deprived of our husbands: there is no one to protect us. Grant us an asylum, O lord of Bruj! persons who live under your protection, desire not wealth, corporal form, modesty or greatness. You are their lord in each successive birth, O god, in the form of life! To what home shall we go: our souls are wrapped up in affection for you.”
On hearing these words, Shree Krishnù smiled, and calling the cowherdesses said to them, “If you really have such great affection for me, engage with me in festive songs and dances.”
On hearing these words, the cowherdesses abandoned all grief, and gathered round him with delight from all sides, and began to feast their eyes with beholding the face of Krishnù.
The cloud-coloured Krishnù stood in the midst; and the women, engaged in diversions, appeared like golden creepers, growing from under a dark-coloured hill. Shree Krishnù had before intimated to his delusive power, that he would engage in festivities, and had ordered the power to raise a fine building, remain in it, and grant all the desires and wishes, which any one might form.
O great king! the delusive power, on hearing the order, went to the banks of the Jumna, and having made a large, round golden terrace, studded with pearls and diamonds, and surrounded it on all sides with pillars of sprouting plantains, in which were wreaths and garlands of flowers of all kinds, came and informed Shree Krishnù Chund of what he had done. He was delighted at hearing it, and taking all the women of Bruj with him, went to the banks of the Jumna.
On arrival, they saw that the splendour of the circular terrace, which had been made for their festivities, was four times more brilliant than the moon’s orb. The sand, which surrounded it, appeared like the light of the moon. There was a fragrant, cool, sweet breeze blowing. And on one side the verdure of all the forests displayed its numerous beauties in the brightness of the night.
On viewing this scene the cowherdesses were highly pleased, and having gone to the bank of a tank, named Manusrowur, which was near the terrace, and putting on pleasing, elegant dresses and ornaments, adorning themselves from head to foot, they brought sweet-toned lutes, timbrels and other musical instruments; and being intoxicated with love, abandoning all reflection and modesty, they began to play, sing and dance with Krishnù. At that time, Shree Gobind, in the assembly of cowherdesses, appeared as beautiful as the moon amidst stars.
Having recited so much of the history, Shree Shookdeo Jee said,—O great king! when the cowherdesses, having utterly abandoned reason, looked upon Huri in the course of their festivities, as their natural husband, and considered him as subservient to themselves. Shree Krishnù Chund reflected in his mind,—“The cowherdesses now think me in their power, and regard me, in their minds, as their natural lord; they have become ignorant, abandoning all modesty, and twine themselves round my neck, and embrace me with great affection; they have all utterly forgotten knowledge and meditation; I will now leave them, as they have increased their pride; I will see what they will do, and how they will live without me in the jungle.” Having thus reflected, and taken Shree Radhika with him, Shree Krishnù Chund disappeared.