O best of sages, you have asked about the great king Sagara—let me recount his story. Sagara, O Brahmin, attained the highest and most excellent abode of Vishnu. While on earth, he ruled righteously, devoted to dharma, and enjoyed the whole world in accordance with virtue. As lord of men, he established all people firmly in their own duties, ensuring that every being fulfilled their proper role. Sagara satisfied the earth-gods by gifting them cows, land, gold, garments, and other offerings. He considered his life fulfilled, for he had removed the suffering of others. In his realm, the people were adorned with celestial ornaments and lived joyfully, O sage. The earth itself, pleased by such rule, yielded fruits and flowers without the need for tilling. With unrighteousness banished, the people thrived under the protection of righteousness. Yet, as often happens in the world, a great pride arose—accompanied by jealousy and born of loss. Sagara began to think, “Who else besides me is worthy of honor, I who have performed such great sacrifices?” He had become learned in the essence of the Vedas and Vedāṅgas, skilled in the science of ethics. But such excessive pride inevitably stirs jealousy in others. When pride, jealousy, loss, and the sense of being wronged arise together in a person, it surely leads to destruction. Even one of these faults brings harm—what then when all four are present at once? Quarrels, like fire in chaff fanned by the wind, destroy one’s own body and ruin all prosperity. Harsh speech brings happiness neither here nor hereafter for those who indulge in it. Even one’s beloved, children, or relatives can become enemies when such tendencies take root. Truly, a person thus afflicted becomes the axe that cuts down his own wealth—there is no doubt. When the wicked-minded see the welfare of all, they become envious. Driven by envy, a man continually acts to harm others, O twice-born. In Sagara’s case, the Haihayas, Tālalajaṅghas, and others rose up as powerful enemies. When a person turns away from another, his own fortune is diminished. O Nārada, as long as the Lord of Lakṣmī glances with compassion, those regarded by Mādhava are praised and honored, O foremost of Brāhmaṇas. But when enmity arises among creatures, all auspiciousness is destroyed. Thus, for one who loses the Lord’s favor, wealth, grain, and land inevitably depart. Misfortunes follow, so one should abandon arrogance. The mind of that king—freed from envy, yet along with others—was ultimately defeated by the Haihayas, Tāla-jaṅghas, and their allies. In his wanderings, Sagara came upon a great lake. There, he experienced supreme satisfaction. All the birds in the area, afflicted by disease, hid themselves—a great wonder. Suddenly, the birds, entering swiftly, said, “Let us dwell here.” Having drunk the sweet water, they took shelter at the root of a tree. Yet, the people, counting his faults, exclaimed, “Fie! Fie!” and departed. Even when endowed with all prosperity, a person is reviled by others for his faults. But those who left attained supreme contentment, as one does when a fever has passed. Thus, having destroyed his actions and fame in the world, O best of the twice-born, Sagara’s story stands as a lesson for all.