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target="_blank" rel="nofollow" href="#ulink_5646e3a3-729a-5fba-afce-948f902f65d4">5 Here we meet with a fresh myth to account for the name of these regions. Malaja is probably a non-Aryan word signifying a hilly country: taken as a Sanskrit compound it means sprung from defilement. The word Karúsha appears to have a somewhat similar meaning.

      Canto 27. The Birth Of Tádaká.

      When thus the sage without a peer

      Had closed that story strange to hear,

      Ráma again the saint addressed

      To set one lingering doubt at rest:

      “O holy man, ’tis said by all

      That spirits’ strength is weak and small:

      How can she match, of power so slight,

      A thousand elephants in might?”

      And Viśvámitra thus replied

      To Raghu’s son the glorified:

      “Listen, and I will tell thee how

      She gained the strength that arms her now.

      A mighty spirit lived of yore;

      Suketu was the name he bore.

      Childless was he, and free from crime

      In rites austere he passed his time.

      The mighty Sire was pleased to show

      His favour, and a child bestow.

      Táḍaká named, most fair to see,

      A pearl among the maids was she,

      And matched, for such was Brahmá‘s dower,

      A thousand elephants in power.

      Nor would the Eternal Sire, although

      The spirit longed, a son bestow

      That maid in beauty’s youthful pride

      Was given to Sunda for a bride.

      Her son, Márícha was his name,

      A giant, through a curse, became.

      She, widowed, dared with him molest

Agastya,1 of all saints the best.

      Inflamed with hunger’s wildest rage,

      Roaring she rushed upon the sage.

      When the great hermit saw her near,

      On speeding in her fierce career,

      He thus pronounced Márícha’s doom:

      “A giant’s form and shape assume.”

      And then, by mighty anger swayed,

      On Táḍaká this curse he laid:

      “Thy present form and semblance quit,

      And wear a shape thy mood to fit;

      Changed form and feature by my ban,

      A fearful thing that feeds on man.”

      She, by his awful curse possessed,

      And mad with rage that fills her breast,

      Has on this land her fury dealt

      Where once the saint Agastya dwelt.

      Go, Ráma, smite this monster dead,

      The wicked plague, of power so dread,

      And further by this deed of thine

      The good of Bráhmans and of kine.

      Thy hand alone can overthrow,

      In all the worlds, this impious foe.

      Nor let compassion lead thy mind

      To shrink from blood of womankind;

      A monarch’s son must ever count

      The people’s welfare paramount,

      And whether pain or joy he deal

      Dare all things for his subjects’ weal;

      Yea, if the deed bring praise or guilt,

      If life be saved or blood be spilt:

      Such, through all time, should be the care

      Of those a kingdom’s weight who bear.

      Slay, Ráma, slay this impious fiend,

      For by no law her life is screened.

      So Manthará, as bards have told,

      Virochan’s child, was slain of old

      By Indra, when in furious hate

      She longed the earth to devastate.

      So Kávya’s mother, Bhrigu’s wife,

      Who loved her husband as her life,

      When Indra’s throne she sought to gain,

      By Vishṇu’s hand of yore was slain.

      By these and high-souled kings beside,

      Struck down, have lawless women died.”

1 “This is one of those indefinable mythic personages who are found in the ancient traditions of many nations, and in whom cosmogonical or astronomical notions are generally figured. Thus it is related of Agastya that the Vindhyan mountains prostrated themselves before him; and yet the same Agastya is believed to be regent of the star Canopus.” Gorresio.

      He will appear as the friend and helper of Ráma farther on in the poem.

      Canto 28. The Death Of Tádaká.

      Thus spoke the saint. Each vigorous word

      The noble monarch’s offspring heard,

      And, reverent hands together laid,

      His answer to the hermit made:

      “My sire and mother bade me aye

      Thy word, O mighty Saint, obey

      So will I, O most glorious, kill

      This Táḍaká who joys in ill,

      For such my sire’s, and such thy will.

      To aid with mine avenging hand

      The Bráhmans, kine, and all the land,

      Obedient, heart and soul, I stand.”

      Thus spoke the tamer of the foe,

      And by the middle grasped his bow.

      Strongly he drew the sounding string

      That made the distant welkin ring.

      Scared by the mighty clang the deer

      That roamed the forest shook with fear,

      And Táḍaká the echo heard,

      And rose in haste from slumber stirred.

      In wild amaze, her soul aflame

      With fury toward the spot she came.

      When that foul shape of evil mien

      And stature vast as e’er was seen

      The wrathful son of Raghu eyed,

      He thus unto his brother cried:

      “Her dreadful shape, O Lakshmaṇ, see,

      A form to shudder at and flee.

      The hideous monster’s very

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