Bhaguri Rishi is performing a yajna at Govinda-kunda, and it is announced: whoever donates ghee or yogurt for the sacrifice will have all their desires fulfilled. And so Radhika — she who has a hundred maidservants — carries a golden pot of ghee upon her own head, walking past Govardhan. And down from the top of the hill comes Krishna: "Aha, here comes the troublemaker!" He blocks her path: "Where are you going? Do you not know — this is my forest, my land. Here one pays a toll". And he names the price — an impossible one: "For your crimson lips, ten million rubies. For your brows, curved like Cupid's bows, a hundred million golden bows". The toll is deliberately exorbitant: it cannot be paid — so the only choice left is "welcome to my kunja". "I am the ruler of this place, I am its toll-collector", he says with feigned pride, "so you must honour me". Vishvanatha Chakravarti, beholding this, exclaims: "I worship their greed" — for it is the greed of love, thirsting each moment for ever-new sweetness.