“Sakra said, ’Thou art now, O Danava, born as an ass subsisting on chaff as thy food. This thy order of birth is certainly a low one. Dost thou or dost thou not grieve for it? I see what I had never seen before, viz., thyself brought under the sway of thy enemies, divested of prosperity and friends, and shorn of energy and prowess. Formerly, thou used to make progress through the worlds with thy train consisting of thousands of vehicles and thousands of kinsmen, and to move along, scorching everybody with thy splendour and counting us as nought. The Daityas, looking up to thee as their protector, lived under thy sway. Through thy power, the earth used to yield crops without waiting for tillage. Today, however, I behold thee overtaken by this dire calamity. Dost thou or dost thou not indulge in grief for this? When formerly thou usedst, with pride reflected in thy face, to divide on the eastern shores of the ocean thy vast wealth among thy kinsmen, what was the state of thy mind then? Formerly, for many years, when blazing with splendour, thou usedst to sport, thousands of celestial damsels used to dance before thee. All of them were adorned with garlands of lotuses and all had companions bright as gold. What, O lord of Danavas, was the state of thy mind then and what is it now? Thou hadst a very large umbrella made of gold and adorned with jewels and gems. Full two and forty thousand Gandharvas used in those days to dance before thee. In thy sacrifices thou hadst a stake that was very large and made entirely of gold. On such occasions thou wert to give away millions upon millions of kine. What, O Daitya, was the state of thy mind then? Formerly, engaged in sacrifice, thou hadst gone round the whole earth, following the rule of the hurling of the Samya: What was the state of thy mind then? I do not now behold that golden jar of thine, nor that umbrella of thine, nor those fans. I behold not also, O king of the Asuras, that garland of thine which was given to thee by the Grandsire.’
“Vali said, ’Thou seest not now, O Vasava, my jar and umbrella and fans. Thou seest not also my garland, that gift of the Grandsire. Those precious possessions of mine about which thou askest are now buried in the darkness of a cave. When my time comes again, thou wilt surely behold them again. This conduct of thine, however, does not become thy fame or birth. Thyself in prosperity, thou desirest to mock me that am sunk in adversity. They that have acquired wisdom, and have won contentment therefrom, they that are of tranquil souls, that are virtuous and good among creatures, never grieve in misery nor rejoice in happiness. Led, however, by a vulgar intelligence, thou indulgest in brag, O Purandara! When thou shalt become like me thou shalt not then indulge in speeches like these.’”
“Bhishma said, ’Once more, laughing at Vali who was sighing like a snake, Sakra addressed him for saying something more pointed than what had said before.