Having conquered Mahendra and the gods, the mighty Daitya king became lord over the three worlds. With overwhelming power, he seized for himself all the shares of the sacrificial offerings that once belonged to the gods. Defeated by his hand, the gods found themselves bereft of any protector; all the gandharvas, gods, and dānavas were forced into his service. Not only these, but the yakṣas, nāgas, siddhas, and sādhyas too came under his command. In due course, this Daitya king married, according to proper rites, the maiden Kalyāṇī, daughter of Uttānapāda. From their union was born Prahlāda, radiant and noble, destined to be the king of the Daityas. Even while still in the womb, Prahlāda was devoted to Hṛṣīkeśa, to Hari; in every circumstance and action, through mind, speech, and body, he recognized none but the eternal Lord of the gods. His heart remained pure; even as a child, living in his teacher’s house, he was humble and wise. Prahlāda diligently studied all the Vedas and various treatises. In time, accompanied by his teacher, the Daitya boy went before his father. Bowing with humility, he was warmly embraced by his father, who seated him on his lap and, full of amazement, spoke to his son: “Prahlāda, you have long dwelt in your teacher’s house. Tell me, O steadfast one, what knowledge has your teacher imparted to you?” Thus questioned by his father, Prahlāda—born of the Vaiṣṇava line—spoke with affection to the lord of the Daityas, words that dispel impurity: “He who is the essence of all the Upaniṣads, the Supreme Person, the Lord—I bow to that all-pervading Viṣṇu and speak to you.” Hearing this praise of Viṣṇu, the Daitya king was filled with astonishment and, his anger rising, turned upon the teacher: “Why have you taught such words to my son? Foolish one, why have you uttered this praise of Hari? It is improper, unworthy of a brāhmaṇa, and pointless. Such praise of my enemy should not be heard before me. Even if spoken by a child, it must be your doing, O lowest of the twice-born!” Thus speaking, and glancing around in wrath, the king commanded a demon: “Bind this lowest of Brahmins!” At the king’s word, the son of Bhrigu was bound. Seeing his teacher being bound, Prahlāda—who cherished Brahmins—spoke to his father: “Father, my teacher has not taught me this. Out of compassion for the Lord of gods, I have been instructed by Hari himself, the master. No other is my teacher; only Hari guides me. He is the listener, the thinker, the speaker, the seer, the all-knowing Lord. Hari alone is the eternal creator and controller of all embodied beings. Therefore, O master, the Brahmin is innocent and should be released.” Hearing his son’s words, Hiraṇyakaśipu released the Brahmin, astonished, and addressed his son: “Child, why do you wander in such confusion, uttering false words learned from a Brahmin? Who is Viṣṇu? What is his form? Where is Hari established? I alone am the lord in this world, ruler of the three realms. Worship me, Govinda; abandon that difficult enemy. Or worship Śaṅkara, god Rudra, teacher of the world, master, lord of the demons, Śiva who grants all prosperity. Apply the three lines of ash as the demons do, and worship Mahādeva according to the path of Paśupati.” Hearing these words from the demon king, the demon priests added, “So be it, O fortunate one, follow your father’s words. Abandon the enemy who slew Kaitabha and worship the three-eyed one. There is no god higher than Rudra; he grants all to men. Even your father became a lord by his grace.” Hearing their words, Prahlāda, born in the Vaiṣṇava lineage, replied: “Ah, how wondrous is the supreme Lord, whose māyā has deluded the world! Ah, those learned in Vedānta are honored everywhere. Even Brahmins, out of fickleness and intoxication, speak thus. Nārāyaṇa is the supreme Brahman; the essence is Nārāyaṇa, the highest. Nārāyaṇa is the supreme object of meditation; meditation itself is Nārāyaṇa, the highest. He is the eternal, auspicious, unchanging refuge of the universe and the world. Vāsudeva, eternal, is the creator and ordainer of the world. This universe is indeed that Person; the world subsists upon him. He is eternal, with a golden form, lotus-like eyes, lord of Śrī and Bhūmi, gentle, pure, and possessing an auspicious body. “In creation, Brahmā and Śiva—those two supreme gods—exist by upholding his command; Brahmā and Śaṅkara act in accordance with his will. Out of fear of him, the wind blows; out of fear, the sun rises; out of fear, fire, the moon, and death—the fifth—move forth. There was only one divine Hari, the supreme god Nārāyaṇa; there was no Brahmā, no Indra, no Īśāna, nor the moon or the sun. There were not the heavens or the earth, nor the stars or celestial beings; the sages always behold that supreme abode of Viṣṇu. “So, O best of twice-born, having abandoned the meaning of all the Upaniṣads, whether out of passion, greed, or fear, what do you say before me? Having abandoned that god Hari, protector and lord of all, how could I, taking refuge in heresy, worship Śaṅkara? The consort of Lakṣmī, god of gods, infinite, the supreme person, dark as a blue lotus petal, with eyes wide as lotus leaves, with chest marked by the Śrīvatsa, adorned with all ornaments, ever youthful, lord of all, bestower of eternal bliss and happiness—he alone is my refuge.” Thus spoke Prahlāda, steadfast and devoted, before his father and the assembly.