‘I have broken many a small bow in my childhood, but you, sir, were never before thus angry. Why should you be so fond of this bow in particular?’ At this the Banner of the house of Bhrigu burst out in a fury:

‘Ha ! princeling! Being already in the grip of death, you care not what you say. Would you compare to a little bow the world-renowned bow of Shiva?’

Said Lakshmana with a smile, ‘Listen, holy sage! To my mind all bows are alike. What gain or loss can there be in the breaking of a rotten old bow? Rama mistook it for a new one,

-and at his very touch it snapped in two. It was no fault of his; why then, reverend sir, be so angry for no cause?’ with a glance at his axe Parashurama replied, ‘O foolish child, have you never heard of my temper?

I slay you not, for, I say, you are but a child; do you take me for a mere anchorite, O dullard? I have not only been a celibate from my very boyhood, but also an irascrible one; and I am known throughout the world as a sworn enemy of the Kshatriya race.

By the might of my arm I have made the earth kingless and time after time made it a gift to the Brahmans. Look at this axe, O prince, that lopped off the arms of Sahasrabahu (the thousand-armed Kartavirya)!

Do not bring distress upon your parents, O princely lad! My most cruel axe has ripped up even unborn infants in the womb!’