Pada 119
Beloved connoisseur, royal youth—O beloved connoisseur! Taste our lovely dishes, and cast upon us one corner of your gracious glance. Your name, virtues, and beauty are filled with wonders beyond all limit; whether it is true or not, tell us truly—answer my questions! The Vedas cry aloud and proclaim you Lord of the worlds; yet what petition did your sister make among her three would-be husbands? The world knows and accepts you as the Father of the universe—there is no error in this; perhaps that is why you conduct yourself toward your own father as though you were his father! They call you the essence of the whole world, after gathering together every sacred essence; then what power remains in the “essence” of Bharata, Lakshmana, and Ripusudana? You repeat your grandfather's name, and your brother repeats yours—what bewildering darkness of names! Modalata has renounced all else to ask you: explain it, O thief of Sita's heart.
Pada 120
I am not insulting you by even a sesame seed's measure; I am only recounting a fine history. There once was a lord of Raghu's line who had a moonlike son. At first Nasiketa was born, and a goat's head was placed upon him—hearing this tale, do not take offense. Then came a greatly renowned destroyer of foes, whose very name makes one laugh; he remained within the waters, and Mandhata, too, was born in a wondrous fashion—this is what I have heard. Sagara's wife was called Sumati. She did not give birth in the ordinary way, but brought forth sixty thousand sons, who dug out the ocean for the world. Is this not a strange river of a story, as you know?