O mighty Bali, lord of the Daityas, your people have become weak and powerless, and the cause is none other than the god Hari. The Daityas, stripped of their strength, have sought refuge in Hari, the supreme lord who rules over the three worlds. Hari, the mighty-armed, descended into the womb of Aditi, incarnating to restore balance. Just as darkness cannot remain when the sun rises, so too the might of the Daityas cannot endure before Hari’s radiance. Moved by the force of destiny, Bali turned to his grandfather Prahlāda and spoke with pride, “There are hundreds among the Daityas who stand with me, surpassing even Vāsudeva in strength. Yet, these very warriors—defeated, their pride shattered on the battlefield—were cast out and forced to abandon heaven. Even the powerful Vipracitti, leading my army, and the formidable Triśiras, Makarākṣa, and Vṛṣaparvan, whose might cannot be borne, each possess a strength that Viṣṇu himself does not equal, not even to a sixteenth part.” Hearing Bali’s words, Prahlāda was filled with sorrow and rebuked him, saying, “Shame! Shame! How can your tongue not fall from your mouth as you slander Hari? O wicked-minded one, you reproach Viṣṇu, the teacher of the three worlds. You were born as a son who disrespects the gods. There is no one dearer to me than Janārdana—how have you spoken ill of the god who is lord of all lords? Even for me, Lord Hari, the blessed guru of the world, is worthy of worship. You, sinner, revile the one worthy of adoration—how is it that you have not fallen down? You, harsh king, are a reviler of Vāsudeva among men. Because of your sinful behavior, you will lose your kingdom. By mind, by deed, and by word, you will be cast down from your sovereignty in all the fourteen worlds. Thus will I see you, deprived of your kingdom.” Hearing these stern words, Bali humbly descended from his seat, joined his hands in reverence, and approached Prahlāda. He said, “Even when children offend, elders forgive them. I do not fear others, nor the loss of my kingdom. But having committed an offense against you, my suffering is greater than any other pain. Even when faults are committed, elders forgive their children—even among the Daityas, if they approach with humility.” Prahlāda reflected deeply on Bali’s humility and, marveling at his grandson, spoke with gentle affection. “I am the seventh in your line to whom the all-pervading Viṣṇu is known, O mighty-armed one. It is entering into me that becomes an obstacle to discernment. The results of destiny can never be avoided. In times of both arrival and departure, the wise do not fall into despair. O king of demons, a man should endure both happiness and sorrow alike. Even when one attains great prosperity, one should remain steady. The steadfast are always supreme among men in their actions. You must act; the learned never succumb to despair. Having heard this from me and from others, act according to wisdom.” Prahlāda assured Bali, “He—Hari—will be your protector from this fear, O lord of the demons. For those who have fallen into the pit of worldly existence, there is no other support; just as men afflicted by fever find no comfort on earth, so too is the plight of those ensnared by worldliness.