O Nārada, listen as the tale unfolds. When one acts for the welfare of all, it sometimes stirs envy in the hearts of the wicked. Such a person, driven by malice, continually seeks to harm others, his actions rooted in jealousy. In this way, the Haihayas, Tālalajaṅghas, and their allies rose as mighty adversaries. It is said that when a person turns away from another—especially from righteousness—his fortune begins to wane. As long as the Lord of Lakṣmī, the compassionate Mādhava, bestows his gracious glance, those he favors are revered and praised by all. There is no doubt about this, particularly in matters of enmity among living beings. But when the Lord’s favor is lost, all auspiciousness departs; wealth, food, and land slip away, and misfortune surely follows. Thus, arrogance must be renounced. The king, tormented by envy, found his mind unsettled, and together with his followers, he was overthrown by the Haihayas, Tāla-jaṅghas, and other foes. In his wandering, he came upon a magnificent lake, and upon seeing it, he felt a profound sense of peace and satisfaction. Meanwhile, all the birds, stricken with disease, concealed themselves—a wondrous sight. Swiftly they gathered, declaring, “Let us dwell here.” They drank the sweet water and found refuge at the root of a great tree. Yet the people, quick to judge and enumerate faults, exclaimed in disgust and departed, for even those blessed with prosperity can be scorned for their failings. The birds, now free from affliction, experienced supreme contentment, as if a fever had been lifted. But in the world, actions and fame can be destroyed in an instant. There is no sin as grave as slander, nor any delusion as blinding as intoxication. Attachment binds like a snare, and association can poison the heart. As time passed, the king, afflicted by the burdens of age in body and mind, grew old. Disease consumed his arm, and at last, the noble sage departed from this world. His queen, overwhelmed by sorrow, mourned him deeply for a long time, until she resolved in her heart to follow him in death. Placing his body upon the funeral pyre, she began the sacred rites herself. But the departed king, through the power of supreme meditation, perceived all that was happening. The great souls, free from envy, see truly with the eye of knowledge. The virtuous queen, steadfast in her love, arrived in spirit to where her beloved Bāhu now dwelled. The noble sage spoke to her with words grounded in righteousness: “Within your womb abides a universal monarch, a slayer of enemies. O virtuous one, know that a woman in her period, ascending the pyre with the king’s son, is seized by troubled thoughts. There is no atonement for a hypocrite, a reviler, or one who destroys the unborn. Nor is there expiation for one who betrays trust. Yet, all this sorrow that has arisen will surely find its peace.” The queen, overcome by intense grief, embraced her husband’s feet and wailed. But he comforted her, saying, “Do not weep, O queen; you will attain supreme prosperity. Therefore, set aside your grief and perform the actions appropriate for this time. Whether one is wicked or virtuous, death comes to all alike. And whether in the city or elsewhere, suffering in this world is abundant.” Thus, the tale unfolds—a lesson on envy and virtue, sorrow and consolation, and the inevitable course of life and death.