Lakƒma˜a smilingly retorted in a mild tone, “Ah, the great sage considers himself an extraordinary warrior! He flaunts his axe before me again and again, as if he would blow away a mountain with a mere puff of breath. Here there is no pumpkin in the bud that would wither away as soon as an index finger is raised against it. It was only when I saw you armed with an axe and a bow and arrows that I spoke with some pride. Now that I understand you are a descendant of Bh¾gu and perceive a sacred thread on your person, I suppress my anger and put up with whatever you say. In our family valour is never shown against gods, the BrŒhma˜as, devotees of Ýr¶ Hari and the cow; for by killing any of these we incur sin while a defeat at their hands will bring disrepute on us. We should throw ourselves at your feet even if you strike us. Every word of yours is as incisive as millions of thunderbolts; the bow and arrows and the axe are, therefore, an unnecessary burden to you. (1—4)