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Rh Jímútaváhana, prince of the Vidyádharas, whose fame I have repeatedly heard sung by the hosts of bards who traverse Lokáloka, sung on the slopes of Meru, in the caves of Mandara, on the table-land of Himavat, on mount Mahendra, on the peaks of Kailása, even on these heights of Malaya, and in the various caverns of the mountains that bound the world. Of a truth, I am plunged in a vast quagmire of iniquity!

O lord of snakes, why art thou thus troubled?

Is it not a time for excessive trouble? If my body were preserved from Garuda by the sacrifice of thine, verily it were right that thou shouldst hurl me to a depth lower than the deepest hell.

Alas! alas! His own body has been of his own accord presented for my food by this noble-minded one, through pity, to save the life of a Nága, who had fallen within the reach of my voracity. What a terrible sin then have I committed! In a word, this is a "Bodhi-sattwa," whom I have slain. I see no way of expiating my sin, except by entering the fire. Where then shall