from crime
    In rites austere he passed his time. 
    The mighty Sire was pleased to show
    His favor, and a child bestow,
    Tadaka named, most fair to see,
    A pearl among the maids was she—­
    And matched, for such was Brahma’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, Maricha was his name,
    A giant, through a curse, became. 
    She, widowed, dared with him molest
    Agastya, 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 Maricha’s doom:—­
    ‘A giant’s form and shape assume,’
    And then, by mighty anger swayed,
    On Tadaka 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, Rama, smite this monster dead,
    The wicked plague, of power so dread,
    And further by this deed of thine
    The good of Brahmans 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, Rama, slay this impious fiend,
    For by no law her life is screened. 
    So Manthara, as bards have told,
    Virochan’s child, was slain of old
    By Indra, when in furious hate
    She longed the earth to devastate. 
    So Kavya’s mother, Bhrigu’s wife,
    Who loved her husband as her life,
    When Indra’s throne she sought to gain,
    By Vishnu’s hand of yore was slain. 
    By these and high-souled kings beside,
    Struck down, have lawless women died.”

CANTO XXVIII

THE DEATH OF TADAKA

    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