Who else but I, the performer of great sacrifices, is truly worthy of honor? I am learned in the essence of the Vedas and Vedāṅgas, skilled in the science of ethics—yet, when pride grows excessive, it breeds jealousy in the hearts of others. Wherever arrogance, jealousy, quarrelsomeness, and harsh speech dwell together within a person, that person is surely headed toward destruction. Even a single one of these faults brings harm; how much more when all four combine! Quarrelsomeness, like a fire in dry chaff fanned by the wind, consumes the body and ruins all prosperity. Harsh words bring happiness neither in this world nor the next; those who indulge in them find even their beloveds, children, and relatives turning into enemies. Such a person becomes the very axe of his own destruction, cutting down his own wealth without doubt. When the wicked-minded see the welfare of others, envy arises within them. Driven by this envy, they act constantly with the desire to harm, O twice-born. Thus, the Haihayas, Tālalajaṅghas, and other foes became powerful enemies. When a person turns away from others, his fortune diminishes. But, O Nārada, as long as the Lord of Lakṣmī, Mādhava, casts His compassionate glance, those favored by Him become truly praiseworthy, O foremost of Brāhmaṇas. There is no doubt in this, especially regarding enmity among creatures. All auspiciousness departs from such a person, O best of sages—wealth, grain, and land slip away. Misfortune surely arises; therefore, one must abandon arrogance. The mind of that king, released to envy, along with others, was defeated by the Haihayas, Tāla-jaṅghas, and their allies. In time, the king found a great lake, and seeing it, he was filled with supreme satisfaction. There, all the birds, afflicted by disease, hid themselves—a great wonder indeed. The birds, swiftly entering, said, “Let us dwell here.” Having drunk the pleasant waters, they took shelter at the root of a tree. Yet the people, counting the faults, cried, “Fie! Fie!” and departed. Even when one is endowed with all prosperity, people revile him for his faults. The birds, relieved, attained supreme contentment, as if freed from fever. But the king, having destroyed his deeds and fame in the world, was left with nothing. O best of twice-born, there is no sin equal to slander, no delusion like intoxication. There is no snare like attachment, nor any poison as deadly as bad association. With the afflictions of old age weighing upon his body and mind, the king became aged. At last, that noble sage died, his arm consumed by disease. His wife, after lamenting long and deeply, resolved in her heart to follow him. Placing his body upon the funeral pyre, she began the sacred rites herself. He, through supreme meditation, perceived all that was happening. Great souls, free from envy, see with the eye of knowledge. That virtuous woman, faithful and true, arrived in that place where her beloved Bāhu was present. There, the noble sage spoke words rooted in righteousness.