daughter of M¾tyu, the god of death). Being thus descended from Adharma (the spirit presiding over unrighteousness, the father of M¾tyu) on the mother’s side, Vena was born with vicious propensities and grew to be the bane of society. Fed up with his atrocities and unable to correct him, King A˘ga left his capital one night and retired to an unknown destination. Seeing the kingdom masterless Bh¾gu and other sages installed Vena on the throne, even though the ministers were opposed to his installation. Power turned his head all the more and arrogantly accounting himself as greater than all he began to insult exalted souls. He went the length of banning the performance of sacrifices and even charity and thus put a stop to all pious acts and the pursuit of religion. When the sages perceived that the tyranny of the monarch was overstepping all bounds they felt sorry for having installed him on the throne. They, therefore, met and decided to expostulate with the king and persuade him, if possible, to desist from his evil ways. They further resolved to dispose of him in case he did not come round. The sages approached the king accordingly and admonished him but in vain. This enraged the sages, who killed him by the very sound of ’Hum’. eka k¶nhi nahi ò bharata bhalŒ¶, nidare rŒmu jŒni asahŒ¶. samujhi parihi sou Œju biseƒ¶, samara saroƒa rŒma mukhu pekh¶.2. etanŒ kahata n¶ti rasa bhµulŒ, rana rasa bi¢apu pulaka misa phµulŒ. prabhu pada ba¯di s¶sa raja rŒkh¶, bole satya sahaja balu bhŒƒ¶.3. anucita nŒtha na mŒnaba morŒ, bharata hamahi upacŒra na thorŒ. kaha¡ lagi sahia rahia manu mŒre ¡, nŒtha sŒtha dhanu hŒtha hamŒre ¡.4. "King SahasrabŒhu, Indra (the lord of celestials) and King TriÜa˘ku* (father of HariÜcandra)—which of these was not brought into disrepute by the intoxication of kingly power? Bharata has resorted to a right expedient; for one should leave no trace of one’s enemy or debt in any case. But he has made one mistake in that he has despised Ýr¶ RŒma (yourself) as forlorn. And he will realize his mistake with vengeance today when he beholds Ýr¶ RŒma’s (your) indignant face on the battlefield." Even as he said so he forgot his love of propriety and the tree of his bellicose spirit burst into flowers in the shape of horripilation. Adoring the Lord’s feet and placing their dust on his head he spoke, revealing his own real and natural might: “Pray do not take offence, my lord, if I tell you that Bharata has provoked me not a little. After all how long shall I endure this and restrain my passion when my lord (yourself) is with me and the bow in my hand?” (1—4)