Again and again did Rama address Parashurama as ‘sage’ and ‘holy Brahman’, till the chief of Bhrigus exclaimed in his fury, ‘You are just as perverse as your brother!

You persist in taking me for a mere ordinary Brahman; I tell you what sort of a Brahman I am! Know then that the how is my sacrificial ladle, the arrows my oblation and my wrath the blazing fire;

armies of horses and chariots and elephants and footmen are the fuel, and mighty princes have served as beasts, whom I have cut to pieces with this axe and offered as sacrifice. Thus have I performed myriads of martial sacrifices, accompanied by the muttering of sacred formulas in the shape of war-cries.

To you my glory is unknown; that is why you address me contemptuously, mistaking me for a mere Brahman. Since you have broken the bow, your pride has transgressed all limits; in your arrogance you stand there as universal conqueror!’

‘O sage’, said Rama, ‘think before you speak; your wrath is out of all proportion to my error, which is a trifling one. Worn out as it was, the bow broke at a touch. What reason have I to be proud?

Hear the truth, O lord of the Bhrigus; if, as you say, I treat you with disrespect by calling you Brahman. I treat you with disrespect by calling you Brahman, who is that gallant warrior in the world for fear of whom I would bow my head?

Any god, demon, king or warrior, whether my equal in strength or my superior, who will challenge me to combat, him would I gladly meet, be he Death himself!