The night pastimes are over; the gopis have gone home and pine in separation. And Krishna is in Nandagaon: his mother wakes him in the morning and smothers him with boundless tenderness. And Radhika herself, called by mother Yashoda, comes to her kitchen to cook — and Krishna eats a breakfast kneaded with Yashoda's love. Then it is time for him to go to the forest: he is Govinda, Gopala, the joy of the cows. And now: he leaves, and his mother runs after him, embracing him, whispering protective mantras so no demon may touch him. He steps a pace away — she catches him again; she charges the boys: stand here, and here, guard him. "Mother, I must go, the cows are hungry" — and off he goes, and again she runs after, again and again. And do you know what Gopala means? "Go" — the words of the gopis, "pal" — the one who obeys them. What will Radhika command — stand, sit? She need not speak: with a single glance she raises him, seats him, raises him again. The lord of the forest who guards them all — yet himself obedient to her one glance.