Krishna is the leader of a gang of thieves. And the leader never does the stealing himself — he sends out his henchman. And Krishna's henchman is his flute. The flute slips straight into the treasury-room — the very heart — and carries off every treasure of a chaste lady: her shyness, her patience, her chastity, her fear of the elders. And here is what happens when you are robbed: you are walking down the street, a pickpocket brushes past you — and you feel your wallet leave your pocket. "Hey, stop!" — and you run after him. So it was with the gopis: the moment they felt the flute stealing every treasure of their hearts — "Stop!" — they sprang up and ran. One by one, two by two, four by four, not even seeing each other, they reached the lotus feet of their beloved, their earrings trembling. A thief you chase to take back what is yours; they ran to the thief himself — to give him their very hearts.