In the illustrious lineage of your ancestors, O King, there had never been a ruler who was not cherished and beloved by his people, especially when one remembers the noble conduct and virtuous deeds of your forefathers. With this in mind, you earnestly inquired of your ministers, “How did my father, a man of such lineage, meet his end? Tell me truly and in detail; I wish to know the facts.” Thus pressed by your command, the ministers, always wishing for your welfare and favor, spoke to you exactly as the events had unfolded. They began, “Your father, O King, protector of the earth and foremost among warriors, was deeply devoted to the pursuit of hunting. Just as the mighty-armed Pandu, renowned as the best of archers, had once entrusted all royal responsibilities to us, so too did your father place his trust in us to govern the realm while he pursued his passion for the hunt. “One day, having ventured into the forest, your father struck a deer with a feathered arrow. After wounding it, he swiftly followed the animal into the dense woods. On foot, with his sword at his side and carrying his bow and quiver, he searched the thicket but could not find the lost deer. Exhausted by age—he was sixty years old—worn by hunger and fatigue, he wandered deeper until he came upon a most excellent sage within the great forest. “The king, lord of men, saw the sage standing silently, observing a vow of silence. He questioned the sage, but received no reply. Hungry and weary, seeing the sage so calm and unmoving, the king was suddenly overtaken by anger. Not realizing that the sage was maintaining a vow of silence, your father, in his frustration, insulted him. Lifting a dead snake from the ground with the tip of his bow, he placed it upon the shoulder of that pure-hearted sage, O best of the Bharatas. “The wise sage neither spoke nor reacted, making no judgment of right or wrong. He remained exactly as he was, undisturbed, bearing the dead snake on his shoulder with unshaken composure. “Having done this, your father, O lord of kings, returned to his city. Now, that sage had a son named Śṛṅgī, renowned for his energy, power, and quickness to anger. After the sage had performed worship and approached Brahman, Śṛṅgī, with his father’s permission, heard of the insult that had been inflicted. “It was told to him that your father, though blameless, had been wronged by your friend’s father, O tiger among kings, while he stood motionless, with the dead serpent draped upon him. The sage was self-controlled, pure, steadfast in wondrous deeds, his soul radiant with austerity, and at that time, disciplined in all his actions. He was virtuous, spoke auspicious words, firmly established, free from greed, not petty-minded nor envious, elderly, observing silence, and a refuge for all beings—yet your father had wronged him. “Then, filled with anger, the great and radiant Śṛṅgī, though still a boy but with the brilliance of an elder, cursed your father. Quickly touching water and blazing with energy, he spoke these words in wrath: ‘He who placed a dead serpent on my innocent and venerable father—him shall the serpent Takṣaka, enraged, burn up with his fiery power. The venomous Takṣaka, fierce in might and impelled by my words, will, after seven nights, reveal the power of my austerity—behold!’ “After pronouncing this curse, Śṛṅgī went to his father and reported what he had done. The sage, a tiger among ascetics, then sent your father’s disciple, Gauramukha—a man of virtue and good qualities—to deliver a message. Calm in spirit, Gauramukha told your father everything in detail: ‘You have been cursed by the sage’s son—be vigilant, O king! Takṣaka, O great king, will burn you with his fiery power.’ “Hearing these dreadful words, your father Janamejaya became vigilant and fearful of Takṣaka, the foremost of serpents. When the seventh day arrived, a brahmarṣi named Kāśyapa wished to go to the king. At that very time, the serpent lord Takṣaka encountered Kāśyapa. “Takṣaka quickly addressed the swift-moving sage: ‘Where are you hastening, and what do you intend to do?’ “Kāśyapa replied, ‘I am going to where the king, Parikṣit, best of the Kurus, is to be burned today by the serpent Takṣaka. I go quickly to relieve him of his fever; if I am present, the serpent will not be able to harm him.’ “Takṣaka then challenged him, ‘Why do you wish to revive him after I have bitten him? I am Takṣaka, O brahmin—behold my wondrous power!’ So saying, Takṣaka bit a tree. Instantly, the tree was reduced to ashes by the serpent’s venom. But Kāśyapa, with his great power, revived the tree, restoring it to life. “Impressed, Takṣaka tempted the sage, saying, ‘Tell me your desire.’ Kāśyapa answered, ‘I am going there desiring wealth.’ Takṣaka replied gently, ‘Whatever wealth you seek from the king, take even more than that from me, O sinless one, and turn back.’ “Thus addressed by the serpent, Kāśyapa, best of men, accepted the wealth offered by Takṣaka and turned back, leaving your father to his fate.