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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/7095-8.txt b/7095-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..897b5e2 --- /dev/null +++ b/7095-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7832 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Malayan Literature, by Various Authors + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Malayan Literature + +Author: Various Authors + +Release Date: December, 2004 [EBook #7095] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on March 9, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-Latin-1 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MALAYAN LITERATURE *** + + + + +Produced by Eric Eldred, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +MALAYAN LITERATURE + +Comprising + +Romantic Tales, Epic Poetry + +And + +Royal Chronicles + +Translated Into English For The First Time + +With A Special Introduction By + +CHAUNCEY C. STARKWEATHER, A.B., LL.B. + + + + +SPECIAL INTRODUCTION + + + +Easily the most charming poem of Malayan Literature is the Epic of +Bidasari. It has all the absorbing fascination of a fairy tale. We are +led into the dreamy atmosphere of haunted palace and beauteous +plaisance: we glide in the picturesque imaginings of the oriental poet +from the charm of all that is languorously seductive in nature into the +shadowy realms of the supernatural. At one moment the sturdy bowman or +lithe and agile lancer is before us in hurrying column, and at another +we are told of mystic sentinels from another world, of Djinns and +demons and spirit-princes. All seems shadowy, vague, mysterious, +entrancing. + +In this tale there is a wealth of imagery, a luxury of picturesqueness, +together with that straightforward simplicity so alluring in the story- +teller. Not only is our attention so captivated that we seem under a +spell, but our sympathy is invoked and retained. We actually wince +before the cruel blows of the wicked queen. And the hot tears of +Bidasari move us to living pity. In the poetic justice that punishes +the queen and rewards the heroine we take a childish delight. In other +words, the oriental poet is simple, sensuous, passionate, thus +achieving Milton's ideal of poetic excellence. We hope that no +philosopher, philologist, or ethnologist will persist in demonstrating +the sun-myth or any other allegory from this beautiful poem. It is a +story, a charming tale, to while away an idle hour, and nothing more. +All lovers of the simple, the beautiful, the picturesque should say to +such learned peepers and botanizers, "Hands off!" Let no learned +theories rule here. Leave this beautiful tale for artists and lovers of +the story pure and simple. Seek no more moral here than you would in a +rose or a lily or a graceful palm. Light, love, color, beauty, +sympathy, engaging fascination--these may be found alike by philosopher +and winsome youth. The story is no more immoral than a drop of dew or a +lotus bloom; and, as to interest, in the land of the improviser and the +story-teller one is obliged to be interesting. For there the audience +is either spellbound, or quickly fades away and leaves the poet to +realize that he must attempt better things. + +We think that these folk-stories have, indeed, a common origin, but +that it is in the human heart. We do not look for a Sigurd or Siegfried +on every page. Imagine a nation springing from an ignorant couple on a +sea-girt isle, in a few generations they would have evolved their +Sleeping Beauty and their Prince Charming, their enchanted castles, and +their Djinns and fairies. These are as indigenous to the human heart as +the cradle-song or the battle-cry. We do not find ourselves siding with +those who would trace everything to a first exemplar. Children have +played, and men have loved, and poets have sung from the beginning, and +we need not run to Asia for the source of everything. Universal human +nature has a certain spontaneity. + +The translator has tried to reproduce the faithfulness and, in some +measure, to indicate the graceful phrases of the original poem. The +author of Bidasari is unknown, and the date of the poem is a matter of +the utmost uncertainty. Some have attributed to it a Javanese origin, +but upon very slight evidence. The best authorities place its scene in +the country of Palembang, and its time after the arrival of the +Europeans in the Indian archipelago, but suggest that the legend must +be much older than the poem. + +The "Makota Radja-Radja" is one of the most remarkable books of +oriental literature. According to M. Aristide Marre, who translated it +into French, its date is 1603. Its author was Bokhari, and he lived at +Djohore. It contains extracts from more than fifty Arab and Persian +authors. It treats of the duties of man to God, to himself and to +society, and of the obligations of sovereigns, subjects, ministers, and +officers. Examples are taken from the lives of kings in Asia. The +author has not the worst opinion of his work, saying distinctly that it +is a complete guide to happiness in this world and the next. He is +particularly copious in his warnings to copyists and translators, +cautioning them against the slightest negligence or inaccuracy, and +promising them for faithfulness a passport to the glories of heaven. +This shows that the author at least took the work seriously. That there +is not a trace of humor in the book would doubtless recommend it to the +dignified and lethargic orientals for whom it was written. Bokhari +seemed to consider himself prophet, priest, and poet-laureate in one. +The work has a high position in the Malayan Peninsula, where it is read +by young and old. The "Crown of Kings" is written in the court language +of Djohore. The author was a Mohammedan mendicant monk. He called the +book the Crown of Kings because "every king who read and followed its +precepts would be a perfect king, and thus only would his crown sit +well on his head, and the book itself will be for him a true crown." + +La Fontaine and Lamartine loved stories. The schoolmates of the latter +called the latter "story-lover." They would have loved the story of the +Princess Djouher Manikam, which is written in a simple and natural +style and is celebrated in the East, or, as the Malays say, in the +"country between windward and leeward." + +From the "Sedjaret Malayou," worthless as it is as history, one may +obtain side lights upon oriental life. Manners are portrayed in vivid +colors, so that one may come to have a very accurate knowledge of them. +Customs are depicted from which one may learn of the formality and +regard for precedents which is a perspicuous trait of oriental +character. The rigid etiquette of court and home may be remarked. From +the view of morals here described, one may appreciate how far we have +progressed in ethical culture from that prevailing in former times +among the children of these winterless lands. + +The readers of this series are to be congratulated in that they are +here placed in possession of a unique and invaluable source of +information concerning the life and literature of the far-away people +of the Indian archipelago. To these pages an added interest accrues +from the fact that the Philippines are now protected by our flag. + +The name Malay signifies a wanderer. As a people they are passionate, +vain, susceptible, and endowed with a reckless bravery and contempt of +death. The Malays have considerable originality in versification. The +pantoum is particularly theirs--a form arising from their habits of +improvisation and competitive versifying. They have also the epic or +_sjair_, generally a pure romance, with much naive simplicity and +natural feeling. And finally, they have the popular song, enigma, and +fable. + +And so we leave the reader to his pleasant journey to the lands of +Djinns and Mantris and spells and mystic talismans. He will be +entertained by the chrestomathy of Bokhari; he will be entranced by the +story of the winsome and dainty Bidasari. + +CHAUNCEY C. STARKWEATHER + + + + +CONTENTS + + +BIDASARI: + + Song I + + Song II + + Song III + + Song IV + + Song V + + Song VI + +SEDJARET MALAYOU + +THE PRINCESS DJOUHER-MANIKAM + +MAKOTA RADJA-RADJA + + + + + +THE EPIC OF BIDASARI + +_Metrical Translation by Chauncey C. Starkweather, A.B., LL.B._ + +BIDASARI + +SONG I + + Hear now the song I sing about a king + Of Kembajat. A fakir has completed + The story, that a poem he may make. + There was a king, a sultan, and he was + Handsome and wise and perfect in all ways, + Proud scion of a race of mighty kings. + He filled the land with merchants bringing wealth + And travellers. And from that day's report, + He was a prince most valorous and strong, + Who never vexing obstacles had met. + But ever is the morrow all unknown. + After the Sultan, all accomplished man, + Had married been a year, or little more, + He saw that very soon he'd have an heir. + At this his heart rejoiced, and he was glad + As though a mine of diamonds were his. + Some days the joy continued without clouds. + But soon there came the moment when the prince + Knew sorrow's blighting force, and had to yield + His country's capital. A savage bird, + Garouda called, a very frightful bird, + Soared in the air, and ravaged all the land. + It flew with wings and talons wide outstretched, + With cries to terrify the stoutest heart. + All people, great and small, were seized with dread, + And all the country feared and was oppressed, + And people ran now this way and now that. + The folk approached the King. He heard the noise + As of a fray, and, angry, asked the guard, + "Whence comes this noise?" As soon as this he said + One of his body-guard replied with awe, + "Illustrious lord, most merciful of kings, + A fell garouda follows us about." + The King's face paled when these dread words be heard. + The officers arose and beat their breasts. + The sorrow of the King was greater still + Because the Queen was ill. He took her hand + And started without food or anything. + He trusted all to God, who watches o'er + The safety of the world. The suff'ring Queen + Spoke not a word and walked along in tears. + They went by far _campongs_ and dreary fields + Beneath a burning sun which overwhelmed + Their strength. And so the lovely Queen's fair face + From palest yellow grew quite black. The prince + Approached the desert with his body torn + By thorns and brambles. All his care and grief + Were doubled when he saw his lovely wife + Who scarce could drag herself along and whom + He had to lead. Most desolate was he, + Turning his mind on the good Queen's sad lot. + Upon the way he gave up all to her. + Two months they journeyed and one day they came + Unto a _campong_ of a merchant, where + They looked for rest because the Queen was weak. + The path was rugged and the way was hard. + The prince made halt before the palisades, + For God had made him stop and rest awhile. + The Sultan said: "What is this _campong_ here? + I fain would enter, but I do not dare." + The good Queen wept and said: "O my beloved, + What shall I say? I am so tired and weak + I cannot journey more." The King was quite + Beside himself and fainted where he sat. + But on they journeyed to the riverside, + Stopping at every step. + + And when the King + Had gained the bank he saw a little boat + With roof of bent bamboos and _kadjang_ screen. + Then to the Queen, "Rest here, my precious one." + The silver moon was at the full, but veiled + With clouds, like to a maid who hides her face + And glances toward her lover timidly. + Then there was born a daughter, like a flower, + More beautiful than statue of pure gold, + Just like the tulips that the princess plucked. + The mother's heart was broken at the thought + That she must leave the babe, the child beloved + They both adored, such beauty it presaged. + The King with tears exclaimed, "How can we take + The infant with us o'er this stony road + Beset with thorns, and burned with dreadful heat? + Pearl of my palace," said he to the Queen, + "Weep not so bitterly about the child. + An offering let us make of her to God. + God grant she may be found by loving hearts + Who'll care for her and raise her in their home." + As soon as they had quite determined there + To leave the infant princess, their great grief + No limit knew. But ere they went away + The King took up the infant in his arms + And rocked her on his knees until she slept. + "Sleep on, heart's love, my soul, my little one, + Weep not for thy dear mother's lot. She fain + Would take thee with her, but the way is hard. + Sleep on, dear child, the apple of my eye, + The image of thy sire. Stay here, fear not. + For unto God we trust thee, Lord of all. + Sleep on, my child, chief jewel of my crown, + And let thy father go. To look at thee + Doth pierce my heart as by a poniard's blow. + Ah, sweet my child, dear, tender little one, + Thy father loves yet leaves thee. Happy be, + And may no harm come nigh thee. Fare thee well." + The little princess slept, lulled by his voice. + He put her from his knees and placed her on + A finely woven cloth of Ind, and covered her + With satin webbed with gold. With flowing tears + The mother wrapped her in a tissue fine + Adorned with jewels like to sculptured flowers. + She seized the child and weeping murmured low: + "O dearest child, my pretty little girl! + I leave thee to the Master of the world. + Live happily, although thy mother goes + And leaves thee here. Ah, sad thy mother's lot! + Thy father forces her to quit thee now. + She would prefer with thee to stay, but, no! + Thy father bids her go. And that is why + Thy mother's fond heart breaks, she loves thee so, + And yet must leave thee. Oh, how can I live?" + The mother fainted, and the grieving King + Was fain to kill himself, so was he moved. + He took the Queen's head on his knees. And soon + By God's decree and ever-sheltering grace + She to her senses came and stood erect. + Again she wept on looking at the child. + "If I should never see thee more, sweet soul, + Oh, may thy mother share thy fate! Her life + Is bound to thine. The light is gone from out + Thy mother's eyes. Hope dies within her heart + Because she fears to see thee nevermore. + Oh, may some charitable heart, my child, + Discover thee!" The prince essayed to dry + Her tears. "Now come away, my dearest love. + Soon day will dawn." The prince in grief set out, + But ever turned and wanted to go back. + They walked along together, man and wife + All solitary, with no friends at hand, + Care-worn and troubled, and the moon shone bright. + + +SONG II + + I sing in this song of a merchant great + And of his wealth. His goods and treasures were + Beyond all count, his happiness without + Alloy. In Indrapura town there was + No equal to his fortune. He possessed + A thousand slaves, both old and young, who came + From Java and from other lands. His rank + Was higher than Pangawa's. Wives he had + In goodly numbers. But he lacked one thing + That weighed upon his heart--he had no child. + Now, by the will of God, the merchant great + Came very early from the palace gates, + And sought the river-bank, attended by + His favorite wife. Lila Djouhara was + The merchant's name. He heard a feeble voice + As of an infant crying, like the shrill + Tones of a flute, and from a boat it seemed + To come. Then toward the wondrous boat he went + And saw an infant with a pretty face. + His heart was overjoyed as if he had + A mine of diamonds found. The spouses said: + "Whose child is this? It surely must belong + To one of highest rank. Some cause he had + To leave her here." The merchant's heart was glad + To see the bright eyes of the little one. + He raised her in his arms and took her home. + Four waiting-maids and nurses two he gave + The pretty child. The palace rooms were all + Adorned anew, with rugs and curtains soft, + And tapestries of orange hue were hung. + The princess rested on a couch inlaid with gold, + A splendid couch, with lanterns softly bright + And tapers burning with a gentle ray. + The merchant and his wife with all their hearts + Adored the child, as if it were their own. + She looked like Mindoudari, and received + The name of Bidasari. Then they took + A little fish and changing vital spirits + They put it in a golden box, then placed + The box within a casket rich and rare. + The merchant made a garden, with all sorts + Of vases filled with flowers, and bowers of green + And trellised vines. A little pond made glad + The eyes, with the precious stones and topaz set + Alternately, in fashion of the land + Of Pellanggam, a charm for all. The sand + Was purest gold, with alabaster fine + All mixed with red pearls and with sapphires blue. + And in the water deep and clear they kept + The casket. Since they had the infant found, + Sweet Bidasari, all the house was filled + With joy. The merchant and his wife did naught + But feast and clap their hands and dance. They watched + The infant night and day. They gave to her + Garments of gold, with necklaces and gems, + With rings and girdles, and quaint boxes, too, + Of perfume rare, and crescent pins and flowers + Of gold to nestle in the hair, and shoes + Embroidered in the fashion of Sourat. + By day and night the merchant guarded her. + So while sweet Bidasari grew, her lovely face + Increased in beauty. Her soft skin was white + And yellow, and she was most beautiful. + Her ear-rings and her bracelets made her look + Like some rare gem imprisoned in a glass. + Her beauty had no equal, and her face + Was like a nymph's celestial. She had gowns + As many as she wished, as many as + A princess fair of Java. There was not + A second Bidasari in the land. + + I'll tell about Djouhan Mengindra now, + Sultan of Indrapura. Very wide + His kingdom was, with ministers of state + And officers, and regiments of picked + Young warriors, the bulwark of the throne. + This most illustrious prince had only been + Two years the husband of fair Lila Sari, + A princess lovable and kind. The King + Was deemed most handsome. And there was within + All Indrapura none to equal him. + His education was what it should be, + His conversation very affable. + He loved the princess Lila Sari well. + He gave her everything, and she in turn + Was good to him, but yet she was so vain. + "There is no one so beautiful as I," + She said. They were united like unto + The soul and body. And the good King thought + There could not be another like his wife. + One day they were together, and the Queen + Began to sing: "Oh, come, my well-beloved, + And listen to my words. Thou tellst me oft + Thou lovest me. But I know not thy heart. + If some misfortune were to overwhelm + Wouldst thou be true to me?" He smiled and said: + "No harm can touch thee, dear. But should it come, + Whenever thou art 'whelmed I'll perish too." + With joy the princess said: "My noble prince, + If there were found a woman whose flower face + Were fairer than all others in the world, + Say, wouldst thou wed her?" And the King replied: + "My friend, my fairest, who is like to thee? + My soul, my princess, of a noble race, + Thou'rt sweet and wise and good and beautiful. + Thou'rt welded to my heart. No thought of mine + Is separate from thee." + + The princess smiled; + Her face was all transfigured with her joy. + But suddenly the thought came to her mind, + "Who knows there is none more fair than I?" + And then she cried: "Now hear me, O my love! + Were there a woman with an angel-face, + Wouldst them make her thy wife? If she appeared + Unto thine eyes more beautiful than I, + Then would thy heart not burn for her?" + + The prince + But smiled, and answered not. She also smiled, + But said, "Since thou dost hesitate, I know + That thou wouldst surely wed her." Then the prince + Made answer: "O my heart, gold of my soul, + If she in form and birth were like to thee + I'd join her with thy destiny." Now when + The princess heard these words she paled and shook. + With eyes cast down, she left her royal spouse. + But quick he seized her. With a smile he said: + "Gold, ruby, dearest friend, I pray thee now, + Oh, be not vexed with me. Light of my eyes, + Keep not within thy heart a bitterness + Because I answered thus unto thy words." + He took her in his arms and kissed her lips + And wooed her. And her face again grew sweet + The while she heard. And yet her woman's heart + Was grieved and saddened. And she sat apart, + And swift these thoughts came to her anxious mind: + "I'll seek to-morrow through this kingdom wide, + Lest there should be within the land a maid + More fair than I. To death I shall condemn + Her straight, lest rival she may be to me. + For if my lord should marry her, he'd love + Her more than me. He'd love the younger one, + And constantly my tortured heart would bleed." + They angered her, these thoughts, as if her heart + Were filled with gall. "Now may I be accursed + If I go not unto the end in love." + Her heart was not assuaged; she sighed alone. + Upon the morrow morn the King went out, + And with him many officers and men. + Meanwhile the Princess Lila Sari sent + A summons to a jeweller of skill, + And at the same time called her four _dyangs_, + Who came and sat. Dang Wilapat bowed low + And said, "Our greetings to thee, princess great." + The Queen replied: "Go forth, _dyangs_, at once + And find me gold and dust of gold, and take + It all unto a goldsmith. Let him make + For me a fan, all decked with beauteous gems, + With rubies red and pearls; and after that + A girdle virginal. Count not the price. + I want it all as quickly as may be." + And so they hastened, took the gold, and went + Outside the city, through the whole _campong_ + Of goldsmiths, seeking there the best to make + The fan and girdle. And the hammered gold + Soon shone with many amethysts and gems. + It was a marvel to behold those rare + And quaintly fashioned ornaments, to deck + A sultaness. Of priceless worth they were. + Four days, and all was ready for the Queen. + But she had never eaten all this time + Because of grief. She thought the fan more fine + Than Java princess ever yet possessed. + She called the four _dyangs_ and said to them: + "A secret mission have I now for ye. + Go up and down among the officers + And show this fan for sale, but never name + The price. Seek ever if there be a face + More beautiful than mine; and should ye find + A face more fair, come tell it straight to me. + If ye obey my will I'll make ye all + Inspectresses within the royal home." + Then forth the women went upon the quest. + And first among their friends they went with words + Of mystery and hints of wondrous things + They had for sale. And so these servants bore + The story to their masters, "The _dyangs_ + Have something wonderful to sell." And soon + The daughters of the houses rich began + To clamor for a sight of this great prize. + Then the _dyangs,_ went to the houses all. + The young girls said, "Oh, tell us now the price." + Dyang Wiravan quickly answered, then + Dyang Podagah: "Tis a princely thing; + I'll go and ask the price and tell it thee." + And so they spoke, and so they looked about + To find a face more beautiful and rare + Than their own Queen's, and wearied in the search. + "Where can we further look?" they said, and then + Bethought them of the strangers and the priests. + But in that quarter no one dared to touch + The precious things, but thought it passing strange + The Queen should wish to sell. To the _campong_ + Of merchants next they went. A double line + Of ramparts guarded it. "Here is more stir + And gayety," they said, "with sport and song, + Than elsewhere have we found." And so they sought + The richest merchants. "We have something rare," + They said, "made by an artist Javanese." + When Bidasari's servants saw these folk + They said: "Bring these things to our house and we + Will show them to our master. He will buy." + Then the _dyangs_ with smiles replied: "They are + Not ours, but our good Queen's. And only we + May show them, lest a stone be lost, perchance, + And we be punished." Bidasari's maids + Were glad and said, "Wait but a moment here + Until we find what Bidasari wills." + They found her with her maids, and told the tale. + Then Bidasari bade them bring to her + The stranger folk, and said, "If I be pleased + I'll buy." Dang Ratna Watie went and told + The women that young Bidasari wished + To see their wares. The four _dyangs_ came in + Together. Joy their faces all suffused, + But they seemed timid, modest, full of fear. + Then Bidasari's women said to them: + "Come, O young women, all are loyal here. + Enter, our sisters and our friends." + + Now when + The Queen's _dyangs_ had looked about them there + They all were dazzled, Bidasari's face + So beautiful appeared. How beat their hearts! + As they upon her lovely features gazed, + Each murmured to herself, "She is more fair + Than our great Queen." + + Then Bidasari wished + To buy the fan, and sent a maid to ask + Her parents for the gold. The merchant said, + "Go see what thing it is, and weigh the gold + For her." The mother feared a trap or trick. + "Oh, do not buy the fan, my child," she said; + "I'll buy a finer one for thee. Send this + Away." But when her father saw her tears + Of disappointment, "It is thine," he said. + "What is the price? I'd buy it though it cost + Thy weight in gold, my darling. Tell me now, + _Dyangs_." Tjendra Melinee answered him, + "Are two timbangs too much?" "I'm very poor," + He said; "but I will buy it for the child." + The gold was weighed. The four _dyangs_ straightway + Departed, hurried to the Queen and said: + "At last we have discovered, O our Queen, + What thou hast sought. 'Tis in a near _campong_ + Of merchants very rich and great. Oh, there + We found a princess fairer than the day; + More like an angel than a mortal maid. + No woman in this land compares with her. + Her name is Bidasari. And the King + Would surely marry her if once they met, + For soon she will be ready for a spouse; + Her innocence is charming. Like a cloud + The merchant and his wife keep watchful guard. + Her hair is curly, like a flower full blown. + Her brow is like the moon but one day old. + She's like a ring in Peylou made. She would + Outshine thy beauty, shouldst thou bring her here." + The princess heard and quickly said: "I feel + My hatred rise. Oh, may I never see + Her face! To hear ye speak of her inflames + My heart with anger. Say, why do ye think + That she's more fair than I?" Then made reply + The women: "Bidasari's eyes are soft. + Her smile is sweet, her skin is tinted like + The green _tjempakka_, and her graceful form + Resembles some famed statue nobly made. + Her cheeks are like the bill of flying bird. + We loved to look upon her neck. Her nose + Is like a jasmine bud. Her pretty face + Is like the yellow of an egg. Her thoughts + Are pure as crystal. And she wears her hair + In such a charming way. Her lips are like + A little polished box. The flowers she wears + But make her look the prettier. Her teeth + Are like a bright pomegranate. Ah, the heart + Doth open when one looketh on her face. + She's like a princess of the Mount Lidang. + Her features are like those of Nilagendi, + Her heels are like the eggs of hens, and make + Her seem a princess of Siam. Her fingers + More tapering are than quills of porcupine. + And solid is the nail of her left hand. + No noble's girl is Bidasari's peer." + Now when the princess heard them sing her praise + Her soul was wounded as if by a thorn. + Her dark eyes flashed. "Ah, speak no more of her," + She said, "nor speak abroad what ye have seen. + But bring me Bidasari. I would see + If what ye say be true." + + "Then we must take + Her presents first, and strive to gain by them + Her friendship, and attain our end at last." + They went to see her every day, and bore + Rich gifts. + + The merchant and his wife remarked + The visits of the Queen's _dyangs_, and how + They loved their daughter. That is why they gave + Them all that they desired. But the _dyangs_ + Among themselves kept saying: "How can we + Take her away? We love her so, and deep + Within our hearts we pity her. And now + Her parents have such trust in us, and load + Us down with gifts. But when, alas, at home + The princess questions us, what shall we say? + For she's a powerful Queen. Yet if we make + Unhappy this dear girl of these good folk, + Shall we not sin? And still the princess is + So violent and harsh! Her jealousy + Would know no limit should the King but hear + Of this affair." + + Dang Djoudah answering spoke: + "We all can go to her and quiet her. + A word suffices oft. She is our Queen, + But to the King belongeth power supreme. + If Bidasari should disdain the throne + We shall renounce our functions at the court, + For what the Queen desires is most unjust. + And if we prove unfaithful we shall be + O'erwhelmed with maledictions." Thus they spoke + And went back to the busy-lived _campong_ + Of merchants. Here they thought to go and find + Djouhara, and obtain what they desired. + A messenger went after them and said: + "To Dang Bidouri: Come at once; my friend + The princess summons you." Then the _dyangs_ + Went to the Queen and found her with the King + At dinner. With malicious wink of eye + She made them understand they must not talk + Before the prince. When he had dined he took + Some _siri_ from the betel-box, himself + Anointed with a perfume sweet, and went + To teach the young folk how to ride and shoot + The arrow straight, and played at many games. + Meanwhile the princess Lila Sari called + Before her the _dyangs_ and questioned them: + "Why have ye come so late?" Bidouri bowed + And said: "'Twas very hard to bring her here + To thee. The merchant and his wife do not + A moment leave her, for they love her so. + Her tiring-women ever are about. + Thou shouldst demand her of her parents, if + Thou dost desire to see her. Treat her like + Thy child, for she is still so very young! + From Bidasari's father thou wilt gain + All that thou canst desire, he is so rich, + If thou wilt only love his daughter dear. + And dost thou give command to bring her here? + Let us go all alone and summon her + For Bidasari'll freely follow us." + They tried to calm the anger of the Queen. + She bowed her head in silence, but her soul + Was very heavy, and hypocrisy + With hate and envy vied within her heart. + "They love the child, these _dyangs_," to herself + She said, "and I shall have no easy task. + I shall attract her here by trickery, + But she shall never my companion be. + With Bidasari once within my power + My heart will be no longer on the rack. + Go now, _dyangs_," she said, "and seek for me + The merchant and his wife and hither bring + Young Bidasari, whom I'll elevate + Unto the rank of princess, for I have + No child. Mazendra take with ye. And when + Young Bidasari shall arrive, conceal + Her for a day or two. And gently speak + Unto the merchant and his wife, and say + Concessions will be granted to the priests + And strangers in their quarter, should she come. + Console Lila Djouhara thus, and pledge + That he may come to see his child whene'er + His heart impelleth him." An escort went + With them, and the _dyangs_ bowed low before + The merchant and his wife, and greeted, too, + Fair Bidasari. But the merchant said: + "Why come ye here in so great numbers?" Then + They straight replied: "Our most beloved Queen + Hath sent us here with greetings unto thee, + The master of the house. If thou'lt permit, + We've come to seek fair Bidasari here." + They beat their breasts, the merchant and his wife. + "Our darling, only child! It will be hard + For her to be the servant of a prince; + For she hath had her way so long! Her traits + Are not yet formed. Go back, _dyangs_, and pray + The Queen to pardon us. Say how we grieve." + But the _dyangs_ repeated all the words + + Said by the Queen, and so their fears were calmed. + They hoped Queen Lila Sari would love well + Fair Bidasari. Then the merchant said: + "I will obey, and let my darling go, + So that she may become unto the Queen + A servant, and perchance a daughter loved. + Now shall she go with ye. Only I beg + The Queen to let her come back home to us + At three days' end. She is not used to stay + With strangers. Never hath she left us for + A single day." Then Dang Bidouri said: + "We'll do our best before the Queen; and why + Should she not grant to Bidasari this?" + They bathed fair Bidasari with sweet scents, + And then arranged her in rich raiment new. + A fine _sijrash_ she wore with broidered flowers + Of Pekan, and a satin robe all fringed + With gold. She bore a plaque of beaten gold + Bound to a necklace, chiselled, gem-bedecked; + Her over-tunic was of yellow silk + With tiny serpents on the buttons 'graved. + Three bracelets wore the maid, and rarest rings, + And ear-rings like a wheel in motion wrought. + Chaste links of gold set forth her beauty rare, + A fair flow'r in a vase, whose perfume sweet + Wafts scented breaths as far as one may see. + They kissed her then with tears and held her close + + Upon their breasts. "Be humble to the Queen," + They said, "remember that thou art before + The King, and near the throne. Ask leave to come + To see us when thou dost desire. Speak sweetly + With low and gentle voice." + + Thus they enjoined. + And then the merchant said, "_Dyangs_, if ye + Love Bidasari, see ye vex her not." + They dried their tears and said: "Be without fear. + Intrust thy daughter to our mistress dear." + "My child," he said, "I'll come to see thee oft. + Thou wilt be better there, my love, than here." + But Bidasari wept and cried: "Oh, come, + Dear mother, with me! Wilt thou not, alas?" + But the fond parents were astounded then + To learn the mother was not asked to come. + She stayed with tears, the while the father went. + As far as to the city's gates. With tears + He said: "Farewell, O apple of my eye + I leave thee here. Fear not, my dearest child." + Then Bidasari wept. Her heart was wrung. + She went. The merchant followed with his eyes. + She entered by a hidden door. _Dyangs_ + And _mandars_ flocked to see her, but she hung + Her head and kept her eyes downcast. + + The sun + Announced the evening, and the King was still + Surrounded by his officers. 'Twas then + Fair Bidasari to the palace came, + And stood before the Queen. All the _dyangs_ + Sat on the floor, with servants of the house. + Like the _pengawas_ Bidasari bowed, + 'Mid the _dyangs_, in presence of the Queen. + They gave her all the merchant's gifts, as sign + Of homage. All astonished was the Queen + At Bidasari's beauty. She appeared + Almost divine. Bidouri spoke and said, + "Thou seest Bidasari, O our Queen, + Lila Djouhari's daughter." At these words + The Queen was stupefied, and thought: "In truth + 'Tis as they said. She is more lovely than + The fairest work of art." Bidouri told + All that the merchant and his wife had said. + The Queen inclined her head and silence kept, + But wicked thoughts were surging in her brain. + A combat raged within her heart. She feared + The King might see the maiden. "Send away," + She said, "the nurses and the women all." + Fair Bidasari wept when they retired. + The princess called her to her side and said: + + "Thou must not weep so, Bidasari. They + Will all return. When thou dost wish to go, + They will go with thee. Now depart, _dyangs_. + Ye need not care for Bidasari more. + I will procure her dames of company + And servants. You may come from time to time." + So they arose, and, with prostrations, went. + The Queen conducted Bidasari then + Into a room and left her all alone, + And all afraid. + + When evening shadows fell, + The great King bade the Queen to sup with him. + He sat beside her, smiled and gayly talked, + As he had been young Bedouwandas, on + His horse, with sword at belt. "My royal spouse, + How thou dost love me! for thou wouldst not sup + Without me, though thou needest food and drink." + Now when the King had eaten, he retired + Unto his sleeping-chamber. + + Still alone + And weeping much, fair Bidasari stayed, + In darkness with no one to speak to her. + She thought on her dear parents. "O my God! + Why dost Thou leave me here?" The solitude + Filled her with terror, and she wept until + The middle of the night, and thought of home. + Out spake the King: "Now what is that I hear? + What voice is that so sorrowful and sweet?" + "It is an infant crying," said the Queen. + "In all the darkness it has lost its way." + Her heart was burning, and she sent a word + To Bidasari that she must not weep, + And held her peace and waited till the dawn. + But Bidasari wept the whole night long + And cried for home. When the _dyangs_ all ran + To comfort her, they found the door was locked, + And none could enter. Bidasari thought, + "What wrong have I committed, that the Queen + Should be so vexed with me?" When day appeared, + To the pavilion went the King. The Queen + Threw wide the door of Bidasari's room + And entered all alone. + + Then Bidasari + The Queen's hand kissed, and begged that she would let + Her homeward fare. "O gracious Queen," she said, + "Take pity on me; let me go away. + I'll come to thee again." + + The wicked Queen + Struck her, and said, "Thou ne'er shalt see again + Thy home." The gentle Bidasari drooped + Her head and wept afresh, shaking with fear. + "Forgive the evil I have done, my Queen, + For I am but a child, and do not know + How I have sinned against thee," falling at + Her feet she said. The Queen in anger struck + Her once again. "I know full well," she said, + "All thy designs and projects. What! Am I + To rest in peace and see thy beauty grow, + And thee become my rival with the King?" + Then Bidasari knew 'twas jealousy + That caused the fury of the Queen. Her fear + Increased, she trembled and bewailed her fate. + The livelong day she was insulted, struck, + And of her food deprived. + + Before the King + Returned, the Queen departed from the room + Of Bidasari. The poor child had lost + Her former color. Black her face had grown + From blows, as if she had been burnt. Her eyes + She could not open. Such her sufferings were + She could not walk. Then unto God she cried: + "O Lord, creator of the land and sea, + I do not know my fault, and yet the Queen + Treats me as guilty of a heinous crime. + I suffer hell on earth. Why must I live? + Oh, let me die now, in the faith, dear Lord. + My soul is troubled and my face is black + With sorrow. Let me die before the dawn. + My parents do not help me. They have left + Me here alone to suffer. In the false + _Dyangs_ I trusted, as to sisters dear. + Their lips are smiling, but their hearts are base. + Their mouths are sweet as honey, but their hearts + Are full of evil. Oh, what can I say? + It is the will of God." + + Such was the grief + Of Bidasari, and her tears fell fast. + Now when the King went forth again, the Queen + Began anew her persecutions harsh. + With many blows and angry words, she said: + "Why dost thou groan so loudly? Dost thou seek + By crying to attract the King, to see + Thy beauty? 'Tis thy hope, I know full well, + His younger wife to be. And thou art proud + Of all thy beauty." Bidasari was + Astounded, and replied with many tears: + "May I accursed be if ever I + Such plottings knew. Thou art a mighty Queen. + If I have sinned against thee, let me die + At once. For life is useless to the hearts + That suffer. Hast thou brought me here to beat? + How thou hast made me weep! O Queen, art thou + Without compassion?" + + All possessed with rage + The Queen replied: "I do not pity thee. + I hate thee, when I see thee. Open not + Thy mouth again." The wicked Queen then seized + The lovely tresses of the beauteous maid, + And took a piece of wood with which to strike; + But Bidasari wept and swooned away. + The King's voice sounded through the corridor, + As he returned. The Queen then hastened forth + And left a _mandar_ there to close and guard + Fair Bidasari's room, that nothing should + Be seen. Then asked the King of her, "Whom hast + Thou beaten now?" The hypocrite replied, + "It was a child that disobeyed my will." + "Are there not others for that discipline? + Is it for thee to strike?" His _siri_ then + He took, and kissed the Queen with fondest love. + All the _dyangs_ fair Bidasari's plight + Observed, and kindly pity filled their breasts. + "How cruel is the conduct of the Queen!" + They said. "She made us bring her to her side + But to maltreat the child the livelong day. + It seems as if she wished to slay her quite." + Then secretly they went, with some to watch, + And sprinkled Bidasari's brow. To life + She came, and opened those dear wistful eyes. + "My friends," she said, "I pray ye, let me go + Back home again unto my father's house." + "Oh, trust in God, my child," said one in tears. + "My lot is written from eternity. + Oh, pray the princess great to take my life," + The poor child cried; "I can no longer stand; + My bones are feeble. Oh, she has no heart!" + But the _dyangs_, for fear the Queen might see, + All fled. + + Meanwhile the merchant and his wife + Wept all the day, and sighed for their dear child, + Sweet Bidasari. Nor did gentle sleep + Caress their eyes at night. Each day they sent + Rich presents of all kinds, and half of them + Were for the child. But naught the wicked Queen + To Bidasari gave. So five days passed + And then Dyang Menzara forth they sent. + The merchant said: "Oh, tell the mighty Queen + That I must Bidasari see. I'll bring + Her back in three days' time." The good + _Dyang_ went to the queen and bowing low: + "The merchant fain would see his child," she said. + At this the features of the Queen grew hard. + "Did they not give their child to me? Now scarce + A day has passed, and they must see her face. + Is it thine own wish or the merchant's? I + Have said the girl could go where'er she would. + Can I not have her taken back myself?" + Then the _dyang_ bowed, beat her breast, and went, + Sad that she could not Bidasari see, + And quaking at the anger of the Queen. + Of the _dyang_, fair Bidasari heard + The voice, and felt her heart break that she could + Not speak to her and send a message home. + + Upon the morrow, when the King had gone + Among his ministers and men of state, + The Queen again to Bidasari's room + Repaired, to beat her more. As soon as she + Beheld the Queen, poor Bidasari prayed + To her, "O sovereign lady great, permit + That I may go unto my father's house." + The princess shook with rage, her face on fire. + "If thou but sayest a word, I'll slay thee here." + To whom could Bidasari turn? She bent + Before the will of God, and in a sweet + Voice said: "O Lord, my God, have pity now + Upon me, for the cruel world has none. + Grant now the Queen's desire and let me die, + For she reproacheth me, though naught I've done. + My parents have forgotten me, nor send + A word." The angry princess struck again + Her piteous face, and as she swooned away + A napkin took to twist into a cord + And strangle her. She summoned to her aid + Dang Ratna Wali. "Help me pluck this weed; + I wish to kill her." But the woman fled, + As base as cruel. Bidasari's ghost + Arose before her. Yet the child came back + To consciousness, and thought amid her tears: + "I'll tell the story of the golden fish + Unto the Queen, that she may know it all; + For I can but a little while endure + These pains." She spoke then to the Queen and said: + "O Queen, thou dost desire that I shall die. + Seek out a little casket that doth lie + All hidden in the fish-pond at our house. + Within it is a fish. Have it brought here + And I will tell thee what it signifies." + The princess called Dyang Sendari: "Go + And bring here the _dyangs_, with no delay + From out the merchant's house." When they arrived: + "Go, now, _dyangs_, for Bidasari saith + There is a little casket in the pond + Where she is wont to bathe. Go bring it me, + In silence, letting no one see ye come." + Then the _dyangs_ replied: "Oh, hear our prayer + For Bidasari. How her parents grieve! + Oh, pardon, princess, let her go with us." + The Queen with smiles responded: "The young girl + Is very happy here, and full of joy. + Her parents must not grieve, for in two days + If Bidasari doth desire to go + I'll send her freely. She is vexed that ye + Come here so often." The _dyangs_ bowed low, + And smiled, and called enticingly: "Come forth, + O charming child, pure soul; it is not right + To treat us so, for we have come to see + Thy lovely face, and in its beauty bask." + Sweet Bidasari heard, and could not speak, + But answered with her tears. The cruel Queen + Said to them: "Speak no more. But if ye bring + The little casket, ye will fill the heart + Of Bidasari with great joy." Forth fared + Then the _dyangs_, and found the casket small, + And brought it to the palace of the Queen. + Again to Bidasari called the good + _Dyangs_: "Oh, come, dear heart, and take it from + Our hands yourself." "She sleeps," the princess said. + "Come back to-morrow." So they bowed and went. + The princess hastened with the casket rich + To Bidasari's room, and opened it + Before her eyes. Within it was a box + Of agate, beautiful to see, and filled + With water wherein swam a little fish + Of form most ravishing. The princess stood + Amazed to see with eyes of fire a fish + That swam. Then was she glad, and spoke with joy + To Bidasari: "Say what signifies + The fish to thee? What shall I do with it?" + Then Bidasari bowed and said: "My soul + Is in that fish. At dawn must thou remove + It from the water, and at night replace. + + "Leave it not here and there, but hang it from + Thy neck. If this thou dost, I soon shall die. + My words are true. Neglect no single day + To do as I have said, and in three days + Thou'lt see me dead." + + The Queen felt in her heart + A joy unspeakable. She took the fish + And wore it on a ribbon round her neck. + Unto the Queen then Bidasari spoke, + "Oh, give my body to my parents dear + When I am dead." Again the young maid swooned. + The Queen believed her dead, and ceased to beat + Her more. But she yet lived, though seeming dead. + The joyful Queen a white cloth over her + Then spread, and called aloud to the _dyangs_, + "Take Bidasari to her father's house." + They groaned and trembled when they saw that she + Was dead, and said with many tears: "Alas! + O dearest one, O gold all virginal! + What shall we say when we thy parents see? + They'll beat their breasts and die of grief. They gave + Thee to the King because they trusted us." + But the proud Queen, her face all red with hate: + "Why stay ye? Take the wretched girl away." + They saw the Queen's great rage, and bore the maid + Upon their shoulders forth, and carried her + Unto her father's house at dead of night. + Fear seized the merchant. "Say what bring ye here? + Tell me, _dyangs_." They placed her on the ground. + The merchant and his wife, beside themselves, + With tears embraced her form. "I trusted in + The Queen, and so I sent my child to her. + O daughter dear, so young, so pure, so sweet, + What hast thou done that could the Queen displease, + That she should send thee home like this to me? + How could the Queen treat Bidasari so? + For seven days she imprisoned her and sent + Her home in death. Ah, noble child! alas! + Thy father's heart will break, no more to hear + Thy voice. Speak to thy father, O my child, + My pearl, my gem of women, purest gold, + Branch of my heart; canst thou not quiet me? + O Bidasari, why art thou so still? + Arise, my pretty child, arise and play + With all thy maids. Here is thy mother, come + To greet thee. Bid her welcome. Why art thou + So motionless? Hast thou no pity, dear, + To see thy father overwhelmed with woe? + My heart is bursting with despair because + Thou'rt lost to me." + + Long time the merchant thus + Lamented. "What have I to live for now? + Since thou art dead, thy father too shall die. + It is his lot both night and day to sigh + For thee. My God, I cannot understand + Why this dear child should thus a victim be! + 'Tis the _dyangs_ who have this evil wrought." + Then, through the whole _campong_, the merchants all + Made lamentations, rolling on the ground, + With noise of thunder, and their hearts on fire. + They sought to speak and could not. Then began + Again the merchant, and unto his friends + Told his misfortune, asking back his child. + + The Queen's _dyangs_ shed tears, and gently said: + "Speak not so loudly. Thou dost know that we + Are but poor servants, and we tremble lest + The Queen should hear. If any one of us + Had done this wrong, we'd tell it to the King. + Fate only is at fault. Oh, be not wroth + With us. Our will was good. We had no end + Except to see thy lovely daughter great + And powerful. Naught the King hath known of this. + It was the Queen's mad jealousy and hate." + + The merchant and his wife accepted these, + The _dyangs'_ words. "It is as they declare. + The Queen was jealous and embittered thus + Against our Bidasari. To your home + Return, _dyangs_. I fear me that the Queen + May learn of your delay and punish ye." + They bowed and went, with hearts of burning grief. + + The merchant and his wife then lifted up + Poor Bidasari. They were all but dead + With sorrow. On his knees the father took + The body wrapped in crimson silk. He felt + A warmth. Then he remembered that within + The water was her vital spirit still, + And, placing her upon a mat, sent Dang + Poulam, the casket from the pond to bring. + But 'twas not there. Then all the household searched, + But found it not. The merchant beat his breast. + "Branch of my heart," he said, "we all had thought + Thou wouldst become a princess. I have lost + My reason. I hoped now to summon back + Thy spirit vital, but the casket's lost. + My hope is gone. It may be the _dyangs_ + Have stolen it. They're faithful to the Queen. + We may not trust in them. They're filled with hate + And trickery." Unconscious all the time + Lay Bidasari; but at midnight's hour + She for the first time moved. They torches brought + And there behind Egyptian curtains, right + And left, ignited them, with many lamps' + Soft flames. The servants watched and waited there. + The father, always at his daughter's side, + With fixed glance looked for life to come once more + Back to his darling one. She moved again. + With opening eyes she saw and recognized + Her own soft couch, her parents, and her maids. + She tried but could not speak. Her hot tears fell, + She slowly turned and looked with fondest love + Upon her parents. + + When the merchant saw + That Bidasari's spirit had returned, + He took her on his knees and gave her rice. + She could not walk because such pain she felt. + She thought upon the Queen and wept afresh. + They dried her tears, and placed within her mouth + What food she liked. The merchant tenderly + Said, "Bidasari, dear, what has thou wrought + To cause the Queen against thee thus to act?" + Young Bidasari, with a flood of tears, replied: + "No wrong at all I wrought the cruel Queen. + All suddenly her insults she began, + And beatings." They were stupefied to hear + Such tales. "Light of my eyes," the father said, + "We do not doubt thine innocence. Her deeds + Were those of madness. For her haughty birth + I care no whit. Wisdom and virtue bind + True hearts alone. As friends we ne'er must name + Those false _dyangs_. Not plants medicinal, + But poison foul, are they. These days are bad. + Injustice reigns. Believe me, friends, it is + A sign the last great day shall soon appear. + Those false _dyangs_ are but a race of slaves, + Insensible to all that's good. The hour + The princess knoweth Bidasari lives, + We all shall die, the princess is so wroth. + Illustrious Queen they call her--but her words + Are hard and cruel. May the curse of God + O'erwhelm her and annihilate! From thee, + O God, she shall receive the punishment + Deserved. She who pursueth thus a soul + Shall know remorse and pain. So God hath willed. + So God hath willed. Who doth another harm + Shall suffer in his turn. It shall be done + To him as he hath done to others. So, + My child, my crown, have no more fear at all. + Intrust thyself to God. The cruel Queen + Shall yet be treated as she treated thee." + The merchant thus lamented till the night + Was half departed, shedding sapphire tears. + The innocent young girl, like marble there, + Slept till the evening twilight came. Toward dawn + She swooned anew. + + The merchant and his wife + Were much disturbed to see at night she came + To life, but when the daylight shone again + They lost her, and her spirit fled away. + This so distressed the merchant's heart, a lone + Retreat he sought to find. The parents cried: + "O dearest child, there's treason in the air. + Hatred and anger the companions are + Of lamentations and of curses dire. + Foul lies for gold are uttered. Men disdain + The promises of God, the faith they owe. + Oh, pardon, God! I ne'er thought the _dyangs_ + Would thus conspire. But since they are so bad + And treated Bidasari thus, we'll go + And in the desert find a resting-place. + And may it be a refuge for us all, + Hidden and unapproachable." + + His goods + He gathered then, and all his servants paid, + And built a home far in the desert land, + A spot agreeable. A cabin there + He raised, with ramparts hemmed about, and strong + _Sasaks_, and seven rows of palisades. + They placed there many vases full of flowers, + And every sort of tree for fruit and shade, + And cool pavilions. This plaisance so fair + They called Pengtipourlara. It was like + The garden of Batara Indra. All + About, the merchant set pomegranate-trees + And vines of grape. No other garden was + So beautiful. 'Twas like the garden fair + Of great Batara Brahma, filled with fruits. + When all was ready, forth they went, toward night, + And took young Bidasari, and much food. + They fared two days and came unto the spot, + A garden in the desert. Softest rugs + From China there were spread and of bright hue + The decorations were, in every tint. + The house was hung with tapestries, and ceiled + To represent the heavens flecked with clouds. + And all about were lanterns hung and lamps. + Soft curtains and a couch completed this + Enchanted resting-place. Always the light + Was uniform, and brilliant as the day. + 'Twas like a palace of a mighty king, + Magnificent and grand beyond compare. + There was a table on a damp rug set, + With drinks for Bidasari, and with bowls + Of gold, and vases of _souasa_, filled + With water. All of this beside the couch + Was placed, with yellow _siri_, and with pure + _Pinang_, all odorous, to please the child. + And all was covered with a silken web. + Young Bidasari bracelets wore, and rings, + And ear-rings diamond studded. Garments four + All gem-bedecked upon a cushion lay, + For Bidasari's wear. When night had come + Young Bidasari waked. Her parents dear + Then bathed her, and her tender body rubbed + With musk and aloes. Then she straight was clad + In garments of her choosing. Her dear face + Was beautiful, almost divine. She had + Regained the loveliness she erst possessed. + The merchant was astonished, seeing her. + He told her then that they would leave her there, + "Branch of my heart and apple of my eye, + My dearest child, be not disturbed at this. + I do not mean to work thee any harm, + Nor to disown thee, but to rescue thee + From death." But as she listened to these words + Young Bidasari wept. She thought upon + Her fate. Into her father's arms she threw + Herself, and cried: "Why wilt thou leave me here, + O father dearest, in this desert lone? + I'll have no one to call in case of need. + I fear to stay alone. No one there'll be + To talk to me. I only count those hours + As happy when I have my parents near." + The merchant heard fair Bidasari's words + And wept with his dear wife. With bitter grief + Their hearts were shattered. Counsels wise they gave + To Bidasari. "Dearest daughter mine," + The father said, "gem of my head, my crown, + Branch of my heart, light of my eyes, oh, hear + Thy father's words, and be thou not afraid. + We brought thee hither, to this fair retreat, + Far from the town, for, if the Queen should know + Thou liv'st at night, the false _dyangs_ would come, + And who against the princess can contend? + They'd take thee back, and thus exonerate + Themselves. I'd let myself be chopped in bits + Before thou shouldst unto the Queen return. + Thy father cannot leave companions here, + But after three days he will come to thee. + Thy parents both will soon come back again." + Then Bidasari thought: "My parent's words + Are truth, and if the Queen should find I live + She would abuse me as before. Give me + One maid-companion here to be with me," + She asked. "My child, trust not," he said, "in slaves, + Nor servants, for they only follow pay." + Then Bidasari silence kept, and they, + The father all distraught and mother fond, + Wept bitterly at thought of leaving her. + Fair Bidasari bade them eat, before + They started. But because of heavy hearts + They but a morsel tasted. At the dawn + Young Bidasari swooned again. They made + All ready to return to town. With tears + The father said: "O apple of my eye, + Pearl of all women, branch of my own heart, + Pure gold, thy parents leave thee with distress. + No more they'll have a daughter in the house. + But, dear, take courage, we shall soon come back." + They left here with a talking bird to cheer + Her loneliness, close shutting all the gates + Of all the seven ramparts. Through a wood + Bushy and thick they took a narrow path, + In sorrow, but with confidence in God. + "O sovereign God, protect our child," they said. + When they had fared unto their house, they prayed + And gave much alms. + + When evening shadows came + Young Bidasari waked, and found herself + Alone, and was afraid. With bitter tears + Her eyes were filled. What could she say? She gave + Herself to God. Alas, our destiny + Is like a rock. Twas hers to be alone. + It is in no man's power to turn aside + Or change whatever is by fate decreed. + All desolate sat Bidasari. Sleep + Wooed not her eyes. Now when he heard the cry + Of "Peladou," the owl lamented loud. + Upon her parents coming, loaded down + With dainties for the child, she for a while + Her woe forgot, and ate and drank with joy. + The little bird with which she talked upheld + Her courage with its soothing voice. So ran + The days away. Upon pretext he gave + Of hunting deer, the merchant daily came. + + +SONG III + + Hear now a song about the King Djouhan. + The wise and powerful prince e'er followed free + His fancy, and the Princess Lila Sari + Was very happy in her vanity. + Since she had killed (for so she thought) the maid, + Young Bidasari, tainted was her joy. + "The King will never take a second wife," + She mused, "since Bidasari is now dead." + The King loved Princess Lila Sari well. + He gratified her every wish, and gave + Her all she asked, so fond was he of her. + Whene'er the princess was annoyed, the King, + With kisses and soft words would quiet her, + And sing to her sweet songs till she became + Herself again. "Poor, little, pretty wife," + He'd say, and laugh her fretful mood away. + One night as he lay sleeping on his bed, + A dream tormented him. "What may it mean?" + He thought. "Ah, well, to-morrow morn I'll seek + An explanation." At the dawn he sat + Upon a rug Egyptian, breaking fast, + And with him was the princess. When she had + The dainties tasted, the _dyangs_ arrived + With leaves of perfume. Then the King went forth + Into the garden. All the officers + Were there assembled. When they saw the King + They all were silent. To a _mantri_ spoke + The King: "My uncle, come and sit thee here. + I fain would question thee." The King had scarce + These words pronounced, when, bowing very low, + The _mantri_ in respectful tones replied, + "My greetings to thee, O most merciful + Of kings." He sat him near the throne. "I dreamed + Last night," the King continued, "that the moon + In her full glory fell to earth. What means + This vision?" Then the _mantri_ with a smile + Replied: "It means that thou shalt find a mate, + A dear companion, like in birth to thee, + Wise and accomplished, well brought up and good, + The one most lovable in all the land." + The King's eyes took new fire at this. He said + With smiles: "I gave the Queen my promise true + That never I would take a second wife + Until a fairer I could find than she. + And still she is so lovely in my eyes, + Her equal cannot anywhere be found. + You'd take her for a flow'r. Yet when arise + Her storms of anger, long it takes to calm + Her mind, so waspish is her character. + The thought of this doth sadden me. Should one + Not satisfy her heart's desire, she flies + Into a passion and attempts to kill + Herself. But 'tis my destiny--'tis writ. + The Queen is like a gem with glint as bright + As lightning's flash. No one can ever be, + I tell thee now, so beautiful to me." + The _mantri_ smiled. "What thou dost say is just, + O King, but still if thou shouldst someone find + More beautiful, thou yet couldst keep thy word. + The beauty of the Queen may fade away. + The princess thou shalt wed, O King, hath four + High qualities. She must, to be thy queen, + Be nobly born, and rich, and fair, and good." + The prince replied: "O uncle mine, thy words + Are true. Full many princesses there live, + But hard it is to find these qualities. + The Queen is good and wise and lovable. + I do not wish another wife to wed, + And wound the Queen with whom three years I've lived + In love and harmony. Yet if I saw + A quite celestial maid, perhaps I might + Forget, and marry her, and give the Queen + A gay companion." "O accomplished prince, + Thou sayest truly. Stay long years with her + Thy Queen, thy first beloved, for she hath all-- + Great beauty and intelligence." They bowed + As forth from them the King went palaceward. + He sat beside the Queen, and kissed her cheeks, + And said: "Thy features shine with loveliness, + Like to a jewel in a glass. When I + Must leave thy side, I have no other wish + But to return. Like Mount Maha Mirou + Thou art." The princess said: "Wherefore art thou + So spirited to-day? Thou'rt like a boy." + "Branch of my heart, my dearest love," he said, + "Vex not thyself. Thou know'st the adage old: + First one is taken with a pretty face, + Then wisdom comes and prudence, and, with these, + One loves his wife until the day of death. + If thus thou dost deport thyself, my dear, + My heart between two wives shall never be + Divided; thou alone shalt own it all." + The Queen was charmed to hear his loving words. + At night the Queen slept, but King remained + Awake, and watched the moon, and called to mind + His dream. As dawn approached he slept, and seemed + To hear an owl's shrill voice, like Pedalou's. + When it was fully day, the royal pair + Together broke their fast. The King went forth + And orders gave, in two days to prepare + A mighty hunt, to chase the dappled deer, + With men and dogs and all apparel fit. + Then back into the palace went the King, + And told the Queen, who straightway gave commands + For food to be made ready. At midnight + Behind Egyptian curtains went to rest + The King and Queen, but slept not. Still the dream + Was ever in his thoughts and worried him. + At dawn he said farewell unto the Queen. + She was all radiant, and smiling, said: + "Bring me a fawn. I'll tell the servants all + To take good care of it, so it may grow + Quite tame." "What we can do, my dear, we shall, + So all of thy desires may come to pass." + And so the King took leave, with kisses fond, + And, mounted on a hunter brown, set forth, + With velvet saddle decked with fringe of pearls. + Lances and shields and arrows and blow-guns + They bore. The wood they entered, and the beasts + All fled before their steps at dawn's first ray. + And when the sun was up, they loosed the hounds + With savage cries. Toward noon an animal + In flight they saw, and would have followed it, + But then up spake the King and said, "We are + So hot and weary, let us linger here + For rest." One-half the company astray + Had gone, each striving to be first of all. + The King, attended by a faithful three, + Reclined upon the ground, and sent them forth + For water. So the _mantris_ went to find + A river or a pond, and faring far + To Bidasari's plaisance came at last. + They stopped astounded, then approached the place. + When they were near the lovely garden close, + They said: "There was no garden here before. + To whom does this belong? Perchance it is + A spirit's bower. No human voice is heard + But just the cry of 'minahs' and 'bajans.' + Whom shall we call, lest spectres should appear?" + They wandered round the ramparts, and a gate + Discovered, shut with heavy iron bar, + And vainly tried to open it. Then one + Of them went back, and found the King, and said: + "Hail, sovereign lord, we have no water found, + But a _campong_ here in the desert lone, + As splendid as a sultan's, with all sorts + Of trees and flow'rs, and not a mortal there. + 'Tis girt about with double ramparts strong. + No name is seen, and all the gates are shut, + So that we could not enter." + + Scarce the King + Had heard the _mantri's_ word when off he rushed + To see the fair domain. Before the gate + He stood astonished. "Truly, _mantris_ mine, + It is as you have said. I once was here + And then the wood was filled with thorns and briers." + "'Tis not a nobleman's _campong_. It must + Have recently been made. Now summon all + The _mantris_ here and see what they will say." + They called aloud, "Oh, hasten, friends, and bring + The water here." Seven times they called, but none + Responded. Said the King, "It is enough. + 'Tis like as if one called unto the dead." + + "We'd best not enter," said the _mantris_ then, + "It may be the abode of demons fell. + We are afraid. Why should we linger here? + Return, O King, for should the spirits come + It might to us bring evil. Thou shouldst not + Expose thyself to danger." But the King + Upon the _mantris_ smiled. "Ye are afraid + Of demons, spectres, spirits? I've no fear. + Break down the barriers. I'll go alone + Within the precincts." When the gates were forced, + He entered all alone. The _mantris_ all + Were terrified lest harm should come to him. + They sought with him to go. He lightly said: + "No, _mantris_ mine, whatever God hath willed, + Must happen. If in flames I were to burn, + In God I still should trust. 'Tis only He + That evil can avert. We mortal men + No power possess. With my own eyes I wish + To see this apparition. Should it be + The will of God, I'll come forth safe and sound. + Be not disturbed. In case of urgent need + I'll call upon ye. All await me here." + The _mantris_ made obeisance and replied, + "Go, then, alone, since thou hast willed it so." + Into the plaisance strode the King. He saw + That all was like a temple richly decked, + With rugs of silk and colored tapestries + Of pictured clouds and wheels all radiant, + And lamps and candelabra hung about, + And lanterns bright. 'Twas like a palace rich. + The eyes were dazzled with magnificence. + And seats there were, and dainty tables rare. + As through the palace went the King, the more + Astonished he became at all he saw, + But nowhere found a trace of human soul. + Then spake the little bird: "Illustrious King, + What seek'st thou here? This mansion is the house + Of ghosts and demons who will injure thee." + The King was filled with wonder thus to hear + A bird address him. But it flew away, + And hid behind a couch. "The bird I'll find," + He said, and ope'd the curtains soft. He saw + Full stretched, upon a bed in dragon's shape, + A human form, in heavy-lidded sleep + That seemed like death, and covered with a cloth + Of blue, whose face betokened deepest grief. + "Is it a child celestial?" thought the King, + "Or doth she feign to sleep? Awake, my sweet, + And let us be good friends and lovers true." + So spake the King, but still no motion saw. + He sat upon the couch, and to himself + He said: "If it a phantom be, why are + The eyes so firmly shut? Perhaps she's dead. + She truly is of origin divine, + Though born a princess." Then he lifted high + The covering delicate that hid the form + Of Bidasari sweet, and stood amazed + At all the magic beauty of her face. + Beside himself, he cried, "Awake, my love." + He lifted her and said, with kisses warm, + "Oh, have no fear of me, dear heart. Thy voice + Oh, let me hear, my gold, my ruby pure, + My jewel virginal. Thy soul is mine. + Again he pressed her in his arms, and gave + Her many kisses, chanting love-songs low. + "Thou dost not wake, O dearest one, but thou + Art yet alive, because I see thee breathe. + Sleep not too long, my love. Awake to me, + For thou hast conquered with thy loveliness + My heart and soul." So fell the King in love + With Bidasari. "Ah, my sweet," he said, + "In all the world of love thou'rt worthiest." + The _mantris_ grew uneasy at his stay. + They rose and said: "What doth the King so long? + If harm befell him, what would be our fate? + Oh, let us call him back at once, my lords." + So one approached the palace, and cried out: + "Return, O prince accomplished, to us now. + Already night is near. Back thou may'st come + To-morrow ere the dawn. We are afraid + Lest spirits harm thee. Come, O King, for we + A-hungered are, and wait for thy return." + But the illustrious prince was mad with love + Of Bidasari. Pensively he cried: + "Branch of my heart, light of mine eyes, my love, + Pure gold, thou'rt like angel. Now must I + Depart. To-morrow I will come again." + With no more words he left her, but returned. + "My heart would tell me, wert thou really dead. + Some trouble hast thou, dearest one?" he cried. + "What bitter grief hath caused thee thus to sleep?" + He found the nobles murmuring and vexed. + "O King," they said, "our hearts were filled with fear + Lest evil had befallen thee. What sight + So strange hath kept thee all these hours?" The King + Replied with laughter, "There was naught to see." + But they remarked his brow o'ercast with thought, + And said, "O King, thy heart is sorely vexed." + "Nay, nay," the King replied, "I fell asleep. + Naught did I hear except the _mantri's*_ voice. + It surely is the home of demons dread + And spirits. Let us go, lest they surprise + Us here." He seemed much moved. "We naught have gained + But weariness. So let us all go home + To-night, and hither come again at dawn. + For I a promise gave the Queen to bring + A fawn and a _kidjang_." The _mantris_ said: + "None have we taken yet. But game we'll find + To-morrow, and will save a pretty fawn." + The King, when they returned, went straight within + The palace. There he saw the Queen, but thought + Of Bidasari. "O my love," he said, + "To-morrow I'm resolved to hunt again, + And bring thee back a fawn, and win thy thanks. + I'm never happy when away from thee, + My dearest love. Thine image is engraved + Upon my heart." Then he caressed the Queen + And fondled her, but still his heart went out + To Bidasari. All night long his eyes + He did not close in sleep, but thought of her, + In all her beauty rare. Before the dawn + The royal couple rose. The King then gave + Command that those who wished should hunt again + With him. At sunrise forth they fared. + + On Bidasari let us look again. + When night had gone, in loneliness she rose, + And ate and drank. Then to the bath perfumed + She went, and coming to her chamber, took + Some _siri_ from the betel-box. She saw + A _sepah_ recently in use and cast + It forth. She thought within herself: + "Who could have used it? Someone hath been here." + She ran through all the rooms, but nothing found + Except the _sepah_ in the betel-box. + "Had it my father been, he would have left + Some food for me. Oh, he is very rash + To leave me here alone." Upon the couch + She sat and wept, and could not tell her grief + To anyone. "When we no longer may + Live happily," she said, "'tis best to die. + My parents never can forgiven be, + To leave me here like any infidel. + And if I suffer, they will sorrow, too." + The _minahs_, the _bajans_, and talking birds + Began to sing. She took a 'broidered cloth, + And 'neath its folds she sweetly fell asleep. + + The King's horse flew apace to the _campong_ + Of Bidasari. All the _mantris_ said: + "Thou takest not the path for hunting, sire; + This is but the _campong_ of demons dread + And spectres. They may do us deadly harm." + The great prince only laughed, and made as if + + He heard not, still directing his fleet course + To Bidasari's garden, though they sought + His wishes to oppose. When they arrived + Before the palisades, the _mantris_ cried: + "Avaunt, ye cursed demons, and begone + Into the thorns and briers." Then to the King: + "If thou wilt prove the courage of thy men, + Lead us behind the barriers, among + The evil spirits. We will go with thee." + "Nay. Let me go alone," the prince replied, + "And very shortly I'll come forth again." + They said: "O prince, to us thy will is law. + To God most high do we commend thy soul." + Alone the prince in Bidasari's home + Set foot. He was astonished, for he saw the bath + Had recently been used, and all the lamps + Were trimmed and full of oil. Then opening + The chests, he saw the traces of a meal, + And glasses freshly drained. The chambers all + He searched, and came to Bidasari's couch, + And, lifting up the curtains, saw her there, + Asleep beneath the 'broidered covering. + "Tis certain that she lives," he said. "Perchance + It is her lot to live at night, and die + At dawn." Then came he nearer yet, and gazed + Upon her beauty. Ling'ring tears he saw + Bedewed her lashes long, and all his heart + Was sad. Her face was beautiful. Her locks + Framed * with curls most gracefully. He took + Her in his arms and cried, with kisses warm: + "Why hast thou suffered, apple of my eye?" + He wept abundantly, and said: "My gold, + My ruby, my carbuncle bright, thy face + Is like Lila Seprara's, and thy birth + Is pure and spotless. How could I not love + A being fair as thou dost seem to me? + Thy beauty is unspeakable; thou art + Above all crowns, the glory of all lands. + My soul adores thee. Lord am I no more + Of my own heart. Without thee, love, I could + No longer live; thou art my very soul. + Hast thou no pity to bestow on me?" + The more he looked the more he loved. He kissed + Her ruby lips, and sang this low _pantoum_: + + +SONG + + Within a vase there stands a china rose; + Go buy a box of betel, dearest one. + I love the beauty that thine eyes disclose; + Of my existence, dear, thou art the sun. + + Go buy a box of betel, dearest one. + Adorned with _sountings_ brave of sweet _campak_, + Of my existence, dear, thou art the sun; + Without thee, everything my life would lack. + + Adorned with _sountings_ fair of sweet _campak_, + A carafe tall will hold the sherbet rare; + Without thee, everything my heart would lack; + Thou'rt like an angel come from heaven so fair. + + A carafe tall will hold the sherbet rare, + Most excellent for woman's feeble frame. + Thou'rt like an angel come from heaven so fair, + Love's consolation, guardian of its flame. + + At the approach of night the _mantris_ said, + "What doth the King so long away from us?" + They were disturbed, the prince seemed so unlike + Himself and filled with such unrestfulness. + "I fear me much," then said a _mantri_ there, + "That some mishap hath overwhelmed the King. + Perhaps by some bad spirit he's possessed, + That he to this weird spot should fain return." + One went and cried: "Come hither, O our King! + The day declines; we've waited here since dawn." + The King responded to the call, and came + With smiling face, though pale, unto the gate: + "Come here, my uncle; come and talk with me, + Thy King. No evil thing hath come to pass." + "O lord supreme, most worthy prince, return. + If harm should come to thee, we all should die." + "Be calm, my uncle, I will not this night + Return, but he may stay with me who wills." + "O King, with spirits what hast thou to do? + Thy face is pale and worn, and tells of care." + The King but sighed, and said: "My heart is full + Of trouble, but the will of God is good. + Here yesterday a fair celestial form + With angel face I saw. 'Twas here alone." + And so the King told all that had occurred. + "Go back," he added. "Leave me here with her. + Say to the Queen I've lingered still a day + For my amusement, with my retinue." + Then half the escort stayed, and half repaired + Back to the palace to acquaint the Queen + The King would stay another day and hunt. + When all was dark, sweet Bidasari waked + And saw the King, and tried to flee away. + He seized and kissed her. "Ruby, gold," he said, + "My soul, my life, oh, say, where wouldst thou go? + I've been alone with thee for two whole days, + And all the day thou wrapped in sleep didst lie. + Where wouldst thou go, my dove?" The gentle girl + Was much afraid and trembled, and she thought: + "Is it a spirit come to find me here? + Avaunt thee and begone, O spectre dread," + She said, amid her tears. "No phantom I," + Replied the King; "be not afraid. I wish + To marry thee." Then Bidasari strove + Again to flee. Then sang the King a song + That told of love and happiness. Its words + Astonished Bidasari, and she cried: + "Art thou a pirate? Why dost thou come here? + Speak not such things to me. If thou shouldst be + Discovered by my father, he would cut + Thee into pieces. Thou shouldst go alone + To death, and find no pardon in his heart. + Take all my gems and hasten forth at once." + The King replied: "'Tis not thy gems I want, + But thee. I am a pirate, but thy heart + Is all I want to steal. Should spectres come + In thousands, I would fear them not at all. + No tears, my love, bright glory of my crown. + Where wouldst thou go? Hast thou no pity, sweet, + For me? I am a powerful prince. Who dares + Oppose my will? Pure gold, all virginal, + Where wouldst thou go?" So spake the King, and fair + Young Bidasari trembled more and more. + "Approach me not," she cried, "but let me bathe + My face." "I'll bathe it for thee, dear," he said. + But Bidasari threw the water pure + Into his face. "Not that way, child," he laughed; + "My vesture thou hast wet. But I shall stay + And meet thy parents here. Oh, hearken, love. + I followed far the chase, and wandered here. + I sought a pretty fawn to take the Queen; + But now thy face I've seen, no more I wish + To go away. Oh, have no fear, my child; + I would not harm thee. When thy parents come, + I'll ask them for thy hand. I trust they'll grant + My prayer. I'll lead thee forth from this fair spot + Unto my palace. Thou shalt sit beside + The Queen, and live in happiness complete." + Sweet Bidasari bowed her head and wept, + All red with modesty. Unto herself she said: + "I never thought it was a king. How rude + I was! I hope the King will not be vexed." + He calmed her fears with tender words of love. + "Branch of my heart," he said, "light of my eyes, + Have no more fear. Soon as thy parents fond + Have given their consent, I'll lead thee forth. + My palace is not far. A single day + Will take us there. It is not difficult + To go and come." Then Bidasari knew + It was the King of that same land. With fright + She nearly swooned at thought of all the woe + The Queen had caused her. "O my lord," she said, + "I'm but a subject humble. Give me not + The throne. I have my parents, and with them + Must stay." The King was overjoyed. "My dear," + He said, "by what names are thy parents known?" + With low, sweet voice the tender girl replied: + "Lila Djouhara is my father's name. + He dwelleth in Pesara." "Dearest one, + Tell me the truth. Why have they treated thee + In such a fashion--why abandoned thee + In solitude? Thy father is not poor + A merchant rich is he, of birth, who hath + A host of slaves and servants. For what cause + Hath he his daughter left in this far spot? + He is renowned among the merchants all, + Both good and honest. What hath forced him here + Within this lonely wood to hide thee, dear? + Oh, tell me all; let nothing be concealed." + She thought: "It was the fault of his own Queen. + But if I tell him all--he never saw + Me there, within the palace--should he not + Believe, I'll be a liar in his eyes." + She feared to speak and tell him of the Queen. + She thought, "So cruel was the Queen to me + When she but feared a rival, what would come + If I should sit beside her on the throne?" + Then in her sweet voice Bidasari said: + "My glorious King, I am afraid to speak. + I am not suited to a royal throne. + But since thou lovest me, how dare I lie? + If thou dost favor me, the Queen will vex + Her heart. My parents fear her. 'Tis the cause + Why hither they have brought me. Three long months + Ago I came, for terror of the Queen." + She thought on all the horror of those days, + And choked with sobs, and could no longer talk. + Then tenderly the King spake to the girl: + "Ah, well, my darling love, confide in me + The secret thy dear heart conceals. Fear naught; + The Queen is good and wise, and knoweth how + To win all hearts. Why should she render thee + Unhappy? Speak not thus, my pretty one; + The Queen could never do an evil deed. + When thou art near her, thou shalt see, my dear, + Whether she loves or hates thee." + + At these words + Young Bidasari knew the King esteemed + The Queen, and felt her heart sink in her breast. + "My words are true," she said, "but still perchance + My prince cannot believe. But was I not + Within thy palace six or seven nights? + The sweat of pain became my couch, so great + Was my desire to see my parents dear. + They sent me dainties, but all the _dyangs_ + Were kept as prisoners by the princess there. + She said she'd take me back herself. One day + I was, indeed, sent home, but scarce alive." + She told him everything that came to pass. + He listened stupefied, and said: "How could + It be that thou wert in the palace hid, + And I not see thee there? Why was it thou + Wert not beside the Queen? I've never left + The palace for a single day. Where wert + Thou hid? Thy strange words I believe, my dear. + Speak without fear and let me know the whole." + Urged by the King, young Bidasari told + Him all. And when the conduct of the Queen + He learned, the King was wonder-struck. A rage + Most terrible possessed him. But his love + For Bidasari mounted higher still + And his compassion. "So the Queen thus wrought! + I never thought hypocrisy could be + So great! I never in the princess saw + Such bent for evil. But be not, my dear, + Disconsolate. It is a lucky thing + Thou didst not quite succumb. No longer speak + Of that bad woman's ways. Thank God we've met! + So weep no more, my love. I'll give to thee + A throne more beautiful than hers, and be + Thy dear companion until death." "O King," + She said: "I have no beauty fit to grace + A throne. Oh, let me stay a simple maid, + And think of me no more." The King replied: + "I will not give thee up. But I must still + Return, and meditate how I may win + Thee back to life complete." With kisses warm + He covered her fair face. She bowed her head, + And silence kept; and when the morning dawned + She swooned anew. It was a proof to him + That she had told the truth. A mortal hate + Then filled the prince's heart against the Queen. + Touched with deep pity for the maiden young, + He kissed her once again, and left her there, + So white and still, as if she lay in death. + What of the _mantris_? They awaited long + The King, in silence. Then the oldest said: + "O sovereign lord, O caliph great, wilt thou + Not now return?" "I'll come again, dear heart," + He said, and sought the city. Straight he went + Into the palace, to the Queen, who asked: + "What bringest thou from hunting?" He replied + In murmurs: "I have taken naught at all. + For my own pleasure I remained all night." + "'Tis nothing, lord, provided no harm came + To thee. But say what thou didst seek, to stay + So long? I always have prepared for thee + The food for thy great hunts, but never yet + Have I received a recompense?" The King + To this replied with smiles: "Prepare afresh, + For I to-morrow shall depart again. + If I take nothing, I'll return at once." + As he caressed the Queen, upon her breast + He felt the little magic fish of gold + All safe. Then gave he quick commands to all. + "I'll hunt to-morrow, and shall surely bring + Some wondrous game." Now when the princess fell + Asleep he found upon her heart no more + The little fish. "'Tis as the maiden said," + He thought. "The princess hath a wicked soul. + With such a heart I cannot go with her + Through life." Through all the night he could not sleep, + But thought upon the girl. He was as sad + As though he heard a touching song. At dawn + The royal couple rose and went to bathe. + The King into the palace came again + And sat upon the throne adorned with gems. + He donned the royal robe to wear before + The dear young girl. A vestment 'twas of silk, + All gold embroidered, with a tunic bright, + Of orange hue. His mien was most superb, + As doth become a mighty king. He bore + A quiver of Ceylon, most deftly wrought. + When all the _mantris_ had assembled there, + The King within the palace once more went + And met the Queen. Caressing her he took + The little fish that lay upon her breast. + The princess wept, and at the door she cried: + "Why takest thou my little ornament?" + The great King gave no heed, and went away, + At dawn's glad hour, when birds begin to sing. + Swords gleamed and lances shone, and through the wood + They hastened on, with quivers and blow-guns, + And seemed a walking city. + + Now again + To Bidasari let us turn. When dawn + Appeared, she rose and sat in loneliness, + Her face grew still more beautiful. Her state + Astonished her. "Perhaps it is the King + Who hath this wonder wrought. How happy I + To be no longer dead!" She washed her face + And felt still sad, but with her pensiveness + A certain joy was mingled, for her pain + Was passed. Her grief the "talking bird" allayed + With songs about the mighty King and love. + + +SONG + + There's _siri_ in a golden vase, + Good Dang Melini plants a rose; + The King admires a pretty face, + To-day he'll come to this fair close. + + Good Dang Melini plants a rose, + Here in the garden they will meet; + To-day he'll come to this fair close, + To man and maiden love is sweet. + + Here in the garden they will meet, + Go seek the fairest fruit and flower; + To man and maiden love is sweet, + The King is coming to the bower. + + Lo! At this very instant they approached. + Dear Bidasari hid behind the couch. + The King searched everywhere, and found at last + The maiden hiding, bathed in bitter tears. + Then kissing her, the King inquired: "My love, + Bright glory of my crown; pray tell to me + Why thou art sad." He dried her tears. But she + Still hung her head in silence. Then the King + For elephants and horses to be sent + Gave orders. "Go with _mantris_ two at once, + And bring the merchant and his wife, and bid + Forty _dyangs_ to hasten here forthwith." + Then went the _mantris_ forth in haste, and found + The merchant and his wife and said, "The King + Inviteth ye to come." Then through the wood + The parents hurried to the plaisance fair + Of Bidasari, there to meet the King. + Before his Majesty they bowed with fear. + The great King smiled. "Be not afraid," he said, + "My uncle and my mother. Let us go + Within, to see thy lovely child. I make + Ye now my parents. We have friendly been, + And still shall be." Beside the King they saw + Fair Bidasari seated, as with steps + Still hesitating they the palace sought. + The father fond was glad within his heart, + His daughter was so beautiful. She seemed + A princess lovely of the Mount Lidang. + "Dear Bidasari, sweetest child," they said, + "Behind the King, dear daughter, thou should stand." + She made as if to go, but still the King + Restrained her, "No, my pretty one," he said; + "Thy place is at my side. So God hath willed." + The oldest _mantri_, called for counsel, spoke: + "Lila Djouhara good, what sayest thou? + Art thou not glad to see thy daughter made + A queen? What happiness hath come to thee!" + The merchant bowed before the King, and said: + "Make her thy servant, not thy wife, my lord. + Thy glorious Queen we fear. She e'er hath shown + For Bidasari hatred dire, because + A child so lovely might attract the King." + The monarch hearing him thus speak, still more + Toward him was borne. "My uncle," then he cried, + "Have no more fear. But never shall I make + A servant of thy daughter." + + Then he gave + Command to build a castle in the wood. + And all the workers came, and built it there, + With ramparts three. As if by magic then + A golden palace rose. The outer gate + Was iron, loaded down with arms, and held + By demons and by Ethiopians. + These were the keepers of the gates, with steeds + Untamed. With swords unsheathed they stood alert + And waited for the King's commands. Of brass + All chiselled was the second gate, supplied + With cannons and with powder, guarded safe + By beings supernatural. The third + Was silver, such as may be seen in far + Eirak. The beauty of the castle was + Beyond compare! From far it seemed to be + As double, like an elephant with two + White ivory tusks. Where may its like be found? + Three diamonds pure reflected all the light, + Big as a melon. Now the castle built, + The King a plaisance beautiful desired + With gay pavilions, and all kinds of plants. + The middle booth nine spacious rooms displayed, + One for the royal audiences, adorned + And pleasant as a bed of flowers. + + The King + A festival maintained for forty days, + With games and sports and dances to divert. + And never was such animation seen! + All ate and drank to sound of music sweet. + They passed the loving-cup and drank to each + In turn. + + For forty days resounded there + The gongs and _gendarangs_, and joyous tones + Of gay _serouni_ and _nefiri_ glad. + "How beautiful is Bidasari!" all + Exclaimed; "a thousand times more lovely than + The Queen. Thrice happy are the merchant now + And his good wife; by marriage they're allied + To our great King, though strangers to the land. + We count it strange that Bidasari's face + In naught is like the merchant nor his wife. + Who knoweth but that she, in mortal shape, + An angel fair may be? Full many slaves + The merchant hath, but never children own." + "He found her when a babe, upon the shore," + Another said, "and brought her up." + + The King + Heard all their words. He thought: "It is the truth + And this I take as proof of her high birth. + She certainly is noble or come down + From heaven." + + When four days had fled, the wives + Of _mantris_ dressed the beauteous girl. They clad + Her form in satins soft of Egypt, shot + With gold, adorned with precious stones inset + And many gems. Her beauty was enhanced + The more, till she a radiant angel seemed. + She wore a tunic, crimson and pomegranate, + With buttons shaped like butterflies. She was + Adorned with _padaka_ of five quaint clasps, + And belt called _naga souma_. Ear-rings rich + She had, of diamonds set in gold, and wrought + Most wondrously, as bright as daylight's gleam; + A ring most marvellous and rare she wore + Called _astakouna_, and another named + _Gland kana_, and a third from far Ceylon, + Studded with precious stones. Her eyes were like + The stars of orient skies. Her teeth were black, + Her face like water shone. Her chiselled nose + Was prominent and Mike a flower fresh culled. + When she was dressed, upon a couch of pearls + Her mother put her. Supple was her form, + And white, as she reclined, by many maids + Surrounded. In his royal garb the prince + Was clad, and dazzling to the eyes of all + Who saw. He wore a kingly crown which shone + With diamonds bright and lucent amethysts + And many stones, and all majestic seemed. + Then rice was brought. The King with pleasure ate + And what was left he gave the _mantris'_ wives. + When all had finished he perfumed himself + And gazed upon his lovely wife. Her face + And form were charming. Her soft tresses curled + In grace. Her eyes still kept the trace of tears, + Which made her lovelier. The silken folds + Of soft Egyptian curtains fell. They were alone. + "Awake, my darling," said the prince at dawn, + "Crown of my life, awake, my pretty one." + Then Bidasari waked and said, with tears: + "My friend, I had all sorts of wondrous dreams. + I saw a palm-tree tall with tufted limbs, + And fruits all ripe." When three days more had fled + And all the people saw and loud acclaimed, + Then Bidasari took the rank of Queen. + The King o'erloaded her with gifts and loved + Her tenderly. "Oh, let us live and die + Together, dear, and, as the days go by, + Think more of one another, and our love + Preserve, as in the hollow of the hand + Oil is upheld, nor falls a single drop." + So spake the King. + + The merchant and his wife + Were soon established in the neighborhood, + Near to Queen Bidasari's palace grand. + A hundred servants had they to fulfil + Their orders. They sent gifts to all their friends, + And food to last a month. + + A certain day + It chanced that Bidasari said: "O King, + Why goest thou no more within the gates + Of that thine other palace? Of a truth + Queen Lila Sari will be vexed, because + Thou hast abandoned her so long a time. + She'll think that I have kept thee from her side + Unwilling thou shouldst go." So, with all sorts + Of words, fair Bidasari strove to urge + The King to visit Lila Sari. "I + Will go to-morrow," finally he said. + He went, when morning came, and met the Queen. + She turned him back, and with sharp, bitter words + Reproached him. "Wretched one, I will not see + Thy face. I love thee not. I hate thee. Go! + Lila Djouhara's son-in-law, thou'rt not + To me an equal. Thy new wife's an ape, + Who liveth in the woods." + + But when the King + Heard these vociferations of the Queen, + He said: "Branch of my heart, light of my eyes, + Oh, be not vexed, my dear. It was not I + Who wrong began, but thou didst cause it all. + For thou didst hide thy deed from me, and drive + Me on to this extremity. Oh, why + Art thou now angry with me? If thou wilt + But love her, and attach thy heart to hers, + She'll pardon thee, and take thee as a friend." + As more and more enraged the Queen became, + Her wrath with strong reproaches overflowed. + "Depart from here, accursed of God! Thou art + No longer husband mine. Go live with her + Whom God hath struck, but whom thou dost delight + To honor. Formerly of noble blood + Thou wert, but now no more than broken straw. + Thou needst not further try to flatter me. + Though thou shouldst purify thyself seven times, false one, + I'd not permit thee to approach my side." + The King grew angry and replied: "Tis thou + Who art despicable. Thy cunning tricks + Are worthless now. Thy jealousy insane + Was without cause, and common were thy acts. + Thy wit is much below thy beauty. + Will follow thee, should I protection cease." + "Have I forgot my noble birth?" she asked. + + "But thou hast erred, to lower thine high estate + To people of such base extraction. Here + And everywhere thy shame is known, that thou + Art wedded to a gadabout. Is it + For princes thus to wed a merchant's child? + She ought far in the woods to dwell, and know + Most evil destiny." The King but smiled + And said: "If this event is noised abroad, + 'Tis thou who wilt receive an evil name. + For who in all the land would dare prevent + The King from marrying? I ought to take + From thee all I have given. But before + The people I've no wish to humble thee. + Is it because I met thy every wish + That thou art grown so bad? Most evil hath + Thy conduct been, and I with thee am wroth," + And in hot anger rushed the King away, + And straight repaired to Bidasari's side. + + + +SONG IV + + + This song will tell again about the prince + Of Kembajat, most powerful. He was chased + By fell _garouda_, horrid bird of prey, + And sought another land. His way he took + Toward Indrapura. At the break of dawn + A daughter fair was born, a princess true, + Within a boat that lay upon a shore. + The Queen and he abandoned her, and went + Back to the royal palace and for days + Bemoaned her fate. Of her they nothing heard. + "Alas my child!" the father cried, "my dear, + In whose care art thou now? We do not know + If thou art dead or living. Thus thy sire + Hath no repose. Light of mine eyes, my love, + My purest gold, our hearts are torn with grief. + An evil fate was ours to hide thee there. + We do repent the deed. To think that thou + Perchance hath fallen among the poorest folk! + A slave perhaps thou art!" The prince's son + Remarked the sorrow of his parents dear, + And was profoundly moved. "Have I," he asked, + "A sister? Tell me why have ye concealed + Her far away? Did ye not care for her? + Was she a burden that ye must forsake + Her thus? Doth shame not fill your parents' hearts?" + But when he heard the tale in full, he said: + "O father, let me go to seek for her, + My sister dear. If I succeed I'll bring + Her back to thee." "Oh, leave us not, my son," + The father said. "Thou art our only heir. + Like a tamed bird upon our shoulders fain + We've carried thee, and watched thee, day and night. + Why shouldst thou leave us now? Oh, go not forth. + Vex not thyself about thy sister dear. + From travellers we shall get news of her, + And her abode discover." + + Then the prince + Bowed low and said: "My father, lord, and King, + I am but strengthened in my wish to go + And find my sister. Let me now depart, + And seek for news of her." The King replied: + "Well, go, my dearest son; thy heart is good. + Though but a child thou still dost bear a brain." + Then summoned the young prince the merchants all, + And bought much goods and questioned them in turn + About all neighboring villages and camps. + They told whate'er they knew most willingly, + For much the young prince was beloved by them. + Among them was a youth of handsome face, + Fair Bidasari's foster-brother tall. + Amid the strangers sat he near the throne; + His name was Sinapati. He was brave + And wise. Now as he watched the prince he thought, + "How strangely like dear Bidasari's face + Is his, as when a reed is split in twain + There is no difference between the halves." + His home he left when Bidasari fair + Became the Queen. He thought of her and wept. + The prince observed him there, and said, with smiles: + "Young man, my friend, from what far town art thou? + Why dost thou weep so bitterly? What thoughts + Arise in thee and make thy visage dark?" + Young Sinapati bowed and said: "My lord, + I came from Indrapura, in a ship, + My wares to sell. For that I do not weep. + But sorrow cometh to my heart whene'er + I think upon my home, and brothers dear, + And sisters." + + At these words the prince rejoiced. + He thought, "From him some news I'll surely learn." + Sherbets and dainties then to all the folk + He offered, and the cup went 'round from dawn + Till noon, and then the merchants went away; + But the young prince kept Sinapati there. + Now he already strong affection felt + For him and said: "My friend, toward thee I'm moved + And look upon thee as a brother dear. + Thou dost at Indrapura live, but who + May be thy patron there?" Then with a smile + Young Sinapati said: "My patron's called + Lila Djouhara, merchant great. He owns + Some six or seven swift ships, and toileth more + Than ever since he Bidasari took + As child." In two days' time the young prince went + With Sinapati to his father's house. + "I bring thee news," he said, "but nothing yet + Is sure. Behold from Indrapura far + A youth, from whom I've things of import great. + A merchant of Pesara, very rich, + My sister must have found. All well agrees + With what to me thou saidst. Now must we seek + For confirmation of the glad report." + To Sinapati gold and gems they gave. + Then spake the King: "If this be so I'll send + An envoy bearing richest gifts, and thanks + Within a letter writ." + + The youthful prince + Bowed low and said: "Oh, send me on this quest! + Lila Djouhara I would like to see. + Perhaps he's virtuous and just. If I + Am made full sure it is my sister dear, + I'll send a messenger. And if it be + I'll bring her back." + + The King was moved + To hear his son thus speak. "O dearest child," + He said: "I'm very loath to let thee go. + But thou must many horsemen take with thee, + Lest thou shouldst long be absent." + + "Why should I + Be long away?" the prince replied, with bows; + "For if Lila Djouhara will not let + Her come, I shall forthwith return to thee." + The King could now no more object. He gave + Commands to make an expedition great. + With richest gifts, and food, and princely things, + And sent him forth with blessings on his head. + "Stay not too long; thou art my only hope," + The King exclaimed; "I'm getting old, my son, + And thou my heir upon the throne must be." + They started early on the fourteenth day + Of that same month. And Sinapati rode + Beside the Prince. + + Some went on foot and some + On horses. When they far had gone, the prince + Said to the youth: "Now listen, friend. When we + Arrive thou must not name my family + And rank. I'm someone from another town. + It doth not please me to declare my rank + To strangers. Should the girl my sister prove, + Thou mayst tell all, for I shall soon return." + Thus speaking, the young prince his way maintained, + And soon arrived near to the city sought. + He Sinapati left, and went within + The gates, with four companions, true as steel, + And six attendants. They at once repaired + To the _campong_ of good Lila Djouhara. + They found it closed, with a forsaken look. + "There's no one here. The King hath taken all + Away, both old and young," said the _mandar_. + Then Sinapati beat his breast and said: + "What hath become of my dear patron, then?" + "Be not disturbed. No harm hath come to him. + The merchant with the King hath gone, because + The King hath married Bidasari fair, + And made of her a queen, and built a fine + New palace in the country wild. There all + Is joy and happiness." Beyond all count + Was Sinapati glad to hear these words. + Then to the prince he said: "My gracious lord, + Lila Djouhara's near at hand. He is + In highest favor with the King, and bears + A title new." They hurried forth to find + His residence. "It is the left _campong_," + Remarked a country-man. "Thy lord is grand + And powerful now, and master of us here. + The King hath now become his son-in-law." + Then Sinapati went within the gates + And saw his mother there. Her heart was touched. + She kissed him and inquired, "Whom hast thou brought?" + "It is a friend," he answered. "Come, my lord," + She to the young prince said, "enter and rest." + "He's so like Bidasari," to herself + She said. "What is thy name, my brave young man, + Thou seemest nobly born. In very truth + Thou'rt handsome and well mannered." Then the prince + Said: "Poutra Bangsawan I'm called. Thy son + I've followed here." But Sinapati paid + Him homage, and they knew him for a prince. + Before his door young Sinapati slept + At night to guard him safe. Next day there came + An invitation from Lila Mengindra + (Before, Djouhara). So they started forth. + Lila Mengindra was astonished quite + To see the prince's face so beautiful. + "Who is this most distinguished stranger here?" + He asked himself. "My master, speak a word + To Poutra Bangsawan, a friend of mine," + Said Sinapati. So the old man turned + And spoke unto the prince, "Come here, my son, + And sit thee near thy father." He felt drawn + To him, he looked so much like Bidasari. + The young prince smiled and on the dais sat. + "What is thy visit's purpose?" then inquired + The good old man. The prince with bows polite + Replied: "I'm but a humble stranger, come + To find my sister. I bespeak thine aid." + "Be not afraid, my son, but trust in me, + Nor fear to give thy sister's name. If thou + Wilt have it so I'll take thee for a son; + I love thee for thou hast a face so like + My daughter's." Then the brave young prince began + And told his sister's story, how she was + In time of stress abandoned on the shore. + "And if I only knew," he said, "where now + She is, I'd be her master's willing slave." + Now when Lila Mengindra heard his tale + His joy was quite unspeakable. His love + For Bidasari's brother greater grew. + With smiles he asked: "Now, Poutra Bangsawan, + Say of what family thou art, that I + May aid thee in thy quest, and help thee find + Thy sister." Then the young prince bowed his head + And pondered, "Shall I lie?" For he knew not + If 'twere his sister. Lila saw his mood + And said: "Be not disturbed. It is most sure + That thy dear sister's here. So speak the truth, + That my old heart may be surcharged with joy. + Thy sister's seated on a throne, and like + A brilliant jewel is her family. + Be no more sorry. As for me, my heart + Is full of joy." + + The prince looked in his face + And said: "Can I confide in him? I am + A stranger here and fear to be deceived." + Said Sinapati: "Speak not thus, I pray, + For everybody knows this man can tell + Ten-carat gold from dross. Now list, my lord. + Although he bids me silent be, a prince + He is, son of a powerful king, and comes + To seek his sister." Then within his heart + The former merchant much rejoiced, as if + He'd found a mountain of pure gems. He paid + His homage to the prince in proper form, + And took him into his abode, to meet + His wife and all within. The spouses two + To him exclaimed: "Dear prince, in our old age + We're very happy. When thy sister sweet + We found, o'erjoyed were we. And now the King + Hath married her, and raised her to the throne. + He hath our family to noble rank + Upraised, and covered us with benefits." + Then smiling said the prince: "I learn with joy + My sister sweet is here. When may I go + Before the King and see her? For I've come + To take her home. And yet I fear the King + Will never let her go away from him. + When I have seen her I'll return again." + In three days' time the King gave audience. + The former merchant with him took the prince, + Who sent the richest presents on before. + The princeling was most gorgeously attired + And bore himself with haughty dignity. + His robe was rich, his tunic violet + And fire. His many-colored turban bore + Bright agates. At his girdle hung his kriss. + He was entirely clad as prince should be, + And bracelets wore with little bells and rings. + His leggings were embroidered with bright flowers + Called _pouspa angatan_. He seemed divine-- + His beauty was extraordinary. Pearls + In numbers countless covered all his garb; + An amulet he had with sacred verse + From the Koran, a diamond pure. He rode + A steed most richly housed, with _shabraque _decked + With gleaming jewels casting rays of light. + Twas thus the prince set out to meet the King. + Lila Mengindra with him went. The prince + Approached the King's pavilion, and at once + The King remarked his beauty and his mien + Of noble grace. "Who can he be?" he thought. + Meanwhile the prince dismounted and appeared + Before the King. Full seven times he bowed + And said, "O may your happiness increase, + Illustrious sovereign!" + + Then the King with smiles + Lila Mengindra questioned, "Who is this + Thou hither bringest, of such noble mien + And amiable face?" + + With humble bow + The former merchant said: "This slave of thine + Has come from lands remote, from Kembajat, + Upon the seashore, since thy Majesty + He wished to see. His presents few he sent + Before him, which he hopes thou wilt accept." + The former merchant thought: "I would his rank + Divulge. But some might think I lied because + The King hath Bidasari wed, and if + She knew she was a princess born she might + Be very vain and haughty." + + To the prince + The King was very friendly. "Come and sit + Here by my side," he said, "for thee I deem + A brother." "Let me here remain, my lord, + I am a poor unworthy servitor. + I hope that thou wilt pardon me. I would + I might become a subject of thy crown." + The King thought: "This may be some royal heir + Who here hath wandered. He resembles much + Our Bidasari, Pity 'tis that he + Unto another nation doth belong." + Then pleasantly he said: "Pray, truly tell + What is thine origin? Keep nothing back. + What is thy name? The whole truth let me know." + The young prince bowed him low and said: "My name + Is Poutra Bangsawan, of family + Most humble. I am searching everywhere + To find a sister lost. When she is found + I shall return at once." Then said the King: + "Where is thy sister? I will help thy search. + Stay here with me a month or two, that we + May learn to know each other and become + Fast friends." The young prince then obeisance made + And said: "I bear thine orders on my head. + Thou art a king illustrious, and I + A humble servitor. I am the son + Of good Lila Mengindra, but for long + I've absent been. My sister dear I seek. + Thine aid I do bespeak. From Kembajat + I come, a subject of thy father there, the King. + Forgive me, lord, for now thou knowest all." + The King rejoiced to hear a voice that seemed + So much like Bidasari's, and inquired + Of Sinapati, "Tell me now his race." + Then Sinapati bowed and said: "My lord, + Of princes and of caliphs is his race. + His kingdom, not so far, is most superb; + His palace is most beautiful and grand. + Swift ships within the harbor lie, all well + Equipped." At this the King enchanted was, + To find a prince was brother to his wife. + Still more he asked and Sinapati said: + "Because his realm was ravaged by the foe + He hath misfortunes suffered manifold." + Then knew the King he was of royal blood + And had adversity experienced. + The King came from his throne and said, "My friend, + My palace enter." So the King and prince + Went in. They met fair Bidasari there. + She sat beside a Chinese window quaint, + All choicely carved. She saw the King and thought, + "What fine young man is this he bringeth here?" + When they were seated all, the young prince looked + At Bidasari: "Beautiful is she," + He thought, "my sister dear, and very like + My father." Then the King with smiling face + Said: "Bidasari, darling, speak to him. + He is thy younger brother, come to seek + Thee here. From Kembajat he came. And thy + Dear father mourns for thee the livelong day." + At this fair Bidasari sighed. She bowed + Her head and silence kept. She much was moved + Because she had not known her parents true, + But fancied them Djouhara and his wife. + "I'm but a merchant's daughter," finally + She said. "Things all uncertain this young prince + Hath told. If I'm the daughter of a King, + Why hath he left me here, and never sought + For me through all these years? 'Tis not so far + From here to Kembajat." The young prince bowed. + "Thy words I bear upon my head," he said, + "O sister dear. Pray banish from thy heart + All hatred. If thou'rt lowly born, I am + Likewise. Our realm was ravaged at thy birth. + But shortly afterward fair peace returned, + And to his own my father came again. + I've seen how much he suffers in his heart. + Thy name he never utters without tears-- + He never hath forgotten thee. Forgive + Him, then, in what he was remiss. Except + For stern necessity he never would + Have thee abandoned." + + Then the King with smiles + Said: "Speak to him, my dear. He tells the truth. + Thy parents wandered through a desert land + Beneath a cruel sun. Impossible + It was to carry thee through brier and brush." + Down at his sister's feet the young prince knelt. + Then Bidasari clasped him in her arms. + The brave young prince to them recounted all + The sorrows of his parents. Much he wept, + And they wept, too, as he the story told. + Then sat they down to dine. And afterward + They _siri_ took and perfumes of all kinds. + Then the young prince took leave. "Where goest thou, + My brother?" asked the King. "I fain would go + Straight home to my dear parents," said the prince. + But, with a voice affectionate, the King + Replied: "Seek not Lila Mengindra. Here + Thou shouldst remain, for thou hast met within + This palace thy dear sister. There is room + Enough for thee. Stay here with all thy folk + And retinue." The prince bowed low, and forth + Unto the merchant went, and to him said: + "Within the palace now I shall remain + With all my retinue, for thus the King + Commands." The merchant said: "'Tis very well + For where can one lodge better than within + The palace?" So the prince returned, with all + His people, to the palace of the King. + Then all the _mantris_ came, and festivals + And feasts were held. As long as he remained + At Indrapura, the young prince received + All courtesies. And Bidasari fair + Was known as daughter of a mighty king. + The news was carried far and wide, and all + Repeated how her brother brave had come + To seek for her. + + Queen Lila Sari heard + And was surprised. She sighed in solitude, + And felt a woe unspeakable. She said + To a _mandar_: "I was in too much haste. + On the _dyangs_ I counted, but they come + No more. All four have gone and homage paid + To Bidasari. All my tricks are foiled. + In no one can I trust." Dang Lila then + Approached and said: "Acts of unfaithfulness + Bring never happiness. God's on the side + Of loyalty. Now those _dyangs_ are sad + And languish after thee, but fear the King, + Dost thou not think, O Queen, thou ill hast wrought? + For while the King is absent none will come + Thy heart to cheer." The Queen replied with ire: + "Seek not to consolation give. The King + Esteems me not. I'll not humiliate + Myself before him. Who is that young prince, + So called, who hither came? A pirate's son + He well may prove, and calls himself a prince. + Go ye, _dyangs_, pay service to the King, + And he may favor ye as he did her." + She seemed most wroth. But she repented sore + In truth, and pined away in sorrow deep. + In other days she had no wish nor whim + Unsatisfied. Now all were for the King. + The Queen's heart angrier grew from day to day + As if a scorpion's sting had wounded her. + And her distress grew greater when she thought + Upon the love of other days. Her heart + Was inconsolable because so bitterly + She missed the pomp and glory of her court. + But Bidasari to the King one day + Said: "Send back these _mendars_; for if they all + Stay here, Queen Lila Sari all alone + Will be." The King with smiles replied: "Oh, no! + I will not let them go. She is so fell + And barbarous, she no one loves. She is + Much better all alone." Then to the King + Fair Bidasari said: "Thine anger was + Too prompt. She spoke in wrath because she was + Accustomed to a court. In what to thee + Hath she been wanting, that thou shouldst repel + Her thus? Thou gav'st her love, and now thou dost + Abandon her in sorrow. Be not thus + Incensed with her, for should she come to want + The shame would be reflected on thy head." + The King's face lighted, and he said: "My dear, + I went to see her, but she drove me forth + With bitter words. Her conduct was beyond + All bearing. And she heaped on me abuse." + But Princess Bidasari said: "Dwell not + On that, my friend. She was disturbed by wrath + And jealousy. In other days thou didst + Embrace and kiss her. Now she is alone. + And thou perchance didst somehow hurt + Or bruise her body." All his anger left + The King at this. He said: "O purest soul, + Thou speakest well and wisely. How could I + Not love thee, dear, and cling to thee for life? + Oh, never may we separated be! + Branch of my heart, light of my eyes, thou dost + But good desire. Thou'rt all the world to me. + I'll go to her, since thou doth ask. Perchance + A reconciliation may be made. + But she must first admit her faults. If she + Repentance shows, to see her I will go." + The merchant's wife had come and heard these words. + Her warm tears fell. She thought within herself, + "My daughter hath no vengeance in her heart." + Then Dang Bidouri brought delicious rice + Unto the King and Queen. They ate and drank, + And stronger grew their love from hour to hour. + Then gave the King commands to call the prince. + He came with smiling face and graceful bows. + "Sit here beside us," said the King, and all + The three dined there together, royal ones, + Surrounded by deft servants and _dyangs_. + They chatted gayly, and, with laughter, ate. + When all was finished, from the betel-box + The King of _siri_ took, perfumed himself, + And then the prince retired. + + When two short months + Had fled, the prince bethought him of his home + And parents. To himself he said, "I'll go." + He gave commands to preparation make + For his departure. "I am loath to leave + My sister," he to Sinapati said. + "My life is joyous here. But there at home + I've left my parents in solicitude." + Then Sinapati bowed and said, "With thee + I'll go." + + +SONG V + + A certain day the _mantris_ came + Before the King, in the pavilion grand. + And with them came the youthful prince, and cast + Himself before the throne. The King with smiles + Said: "Sit thou at my side, my brother dear, + I have not seen thee for a day entire." + The princeling bowed and said: "My gracious lord + If thou wilt pardon me, I would return + And give my parents dear the joyful news. + My father bade me seek my sister lost, + And still he nothing knows of her good fate." + The King replied with sorrow: "Brother mine, + Why wilt thou go so soon? We scarcely are + Acquainted, and I have not had enough + Of thy dear company." The prince replied: + "Oh, be not sorrowful, my gracious lord. + As soon as I have my dear father seen + I'll tell him what good things have come to pass. + 'Twill soothe his heart to hear my sister's joy. + My parents will be glad in learning all + Thy goodness great. And pray consider me + Thy subject leal. Soon I'll return again." + The King's emotion grew. With pleasant voice + He said: "Take counsel of thy sister. Heed + What she may say." They found the Queen within, + Fair Bidasari, and attending her + Dyang Agous Djouhari. All sat down + And took some _siri_ from the betel-box. + The Queen to the young prince then spoke: "Come here. + My brother, why have I thy face not seen + For two long days?" With bows the prince replied: + "I've had a multitude of things to do. + Thus came I not; for my companions all + Seek homeward to return. So I must take + My leave of thee upon the morrow morn, + When pales the silver moon before the dawn." + The Queen was grieved to hear these words, and shed + A flood of tears. Her tender heart was touched. + Beside herself with sorrow she exclaimed: + "O prince illustrious! How canst thou go, + Since we have met? I've loved thee from the time + I knew thou wert my brother. I am grieved + To hear thee say thou wilt so soon depart. + Of low extraction must I be! 'Twas wrong + For thee to call thyself my brother. I + A poor and feeble orphan am, and how + Should I the love deserve of a great prince?" + When this he heard the prince bowed low his head + And was much troubled. "Sister sweet," he said, + "Grieve not like this. I only do return + Because our parents must so anxious be. + I love thee so, my darling, that my heart + Is nearly breaking. If thou speakest thus + To me, my dear, my grief will still increase. + I could not leave thee, but I must respect + Our parents' wishes. They commanded me + All haste to make. So--sweet--I pray thee have + Compassion on me." + + Much disturbed, the King + Observed the sorrow of the princess fair. + He kissed her lips, to her a _sepah_ gave, + And said with tender voice: "My darling wife, + What dost thou wish? Let now thy brother go. + We'll see thy parents here ere many days." + The Queen wept bitterly, and said to him: + "His wishes I do not oppose. Let him + Do whatsoe'er it pleaseth him to do. + For I am but a stranger, a lost child, + And who should think of me or love me true?" + Then bowed the prince and said: "In very truth, + I know thou art my sister. Speak not thus. + God knows how much I love thee, sister mine. + If thou dost not permit me to depart + I'll not resist. I'm happy here with thee, + But our dear parents are in cruel doubt, + And look for news of thee. Now that I know + Thy husband is a king, our parents dear + Would be so overjoyed to learn it too!" + Then spoke the King with face all radiant, + "Return not, brother mine," he said. "I'll send + Swift messengers to bear the gladsome news + That Bidasari's found. Then, if he wills, + Thy royal father here we'll hope to see. + I'll go myself to meet him when he comes." + The young prince bowed and said: "Nay, rather send + Thy messengers, a great king cannot go + So far away." Queen Bidasari heard + These words and much rejoiced, and gayly gave + Her brother then her betel-box. + + The King + Caressed his wife and said, "My dearest soul, + Love not thy brother more than me." He called + Lila Mengindra. Soon the merchant came + Before the King and prince. The King exclaimed: + "Come here, my uncle. Tell me, wilt thou take + A letter to the King of Kembajat-- + To prove to him we live?" + + So spake the King + And called his counsellor of state, who came + And kissed his hands. The King then bade him write + A letter, all in characters of gold. + "Well," cried the King, "let's hear the letter now," + "Now glory be to God," it thus began, + And all fair Bidasari's history + Recited. Then the King a mighty host + Assembled and with elephants and steeds + Ten _mantris_ took the letter of the prince + Unto his parents. With the cavalcade + There went a _laksimana_ great, who bore, + As king's ambassador, bejewelled flags + And standards rich, and presents of much worth. + Then Sinapati by the King was called + A _laksimana mantri_, and received + A fine equipment, with a hundred men + To follow him. 'Twas thus the King preserved + His reputation as a mighty king. + + When he had sent the embassy, the King + Went to his wife, and they were very gay. + His love for her grew greater every day. + The former merchant also was beloved. + He gave the King good counsel, and obeyed + His orders willingly. He often dined + Together with the King and Queen. His wealth + Grew vast. No one at all could with him vie, + In Indrapura. He was much attached + To the chief _mantri_. They were equals both + In prudence, wisdom, and fidelity, + With power unquestioned over all the folk. + Beneath their sway prosperity increased, + And many merchants came from far and wide. + The kingdom was at peace. The King rejoiced, + And everyone was happy in the land. + + + +SONG VI + + The _laksimana mantri_ now I'll sing, + Who went upon the embassy. As soon + As the great King of Kembajat had news + Of his arrival, he was much rejoiced. + He told the Queen, and in the audience-hall + Awaited. Then went forth the officers + With elephants and _payongs_. A countless throng + Attended them, with music and with flags. + They met the embassy, and, with rich gifts, + They gave the King's commands. Into the town + Then entered all. The King was very glad, + As if his only daughter had returned. + All bowed before the King, who took the gifts, + While servants took the letter to the chief + Of _mantris_. And he gave it to the King, + The monarch read, and was possessed with joy. + He could not thank enough the merchant good, + Who raised his daughter to a royal throne. + He wished forthwith to go and see his child. + The letter cordial invitation gave. + But one thing troubled him: "He straight inquired, + 'Hath not the prince, my son, the liberty + To come back home?'" The _laksimana_ bowed + And said: "The King wished not to let him come + And begged with tears that he would stay. The Queen + Feared if her brother went she'd never see + Her father. From your children both I bring + Warm greetings. Kind indulgence from your heart + They ask, and press their invitation. I + Crave pardon for myself, O King, and hope + Thy children dear may see their father's face, + And that the kingdoms may become one realm." + At these words smiled the King. "Ah, well!" he said, + "I'll wait for seven days still." Then questions flew, + And the great king learned all about his child. + + The Indrapura _mantris_ went apart + When evening came. A separate palace grand + The King assigned them, with the best of food. + He orders gave for preparations great. + Unto the Queen he said: "In seven days' time, + My dear, I look to start, for I shall have + No peace until I've seen our darling child." + Then he assembled there his _mantris_ all, + Both young and old, with elephants and steeds. + And all was ready to set forth, as he had wished. + The while the morning stars were twinkling still, + The royal gong resounded many times. + The guards leaped forth with joy. The officers + Came out and took their shining helms of war. + Their naked swords all glistened. It was thus + They made the glittering royal cavalcade. + Their flags and banners flaunted in the air, + All those who stayed behind were sad, as if + A knife had cut them. All together marched, + The lancers and the horsemen, and they seemed + A moving city. Soon all darkened was + The moon, as someone sorrowful. The swords + And lances glistened like an island in + The middle of the sea. Thus is described + The royal escort marching through the land. + The King was mounted on an elephant, + His _siri_-bearer seated close behind. + A rich _payong_ of royalty, all tricked + With bells, was stretched above his head, + And drums and other instruments without + Cessation sounded. Thus went forth the King, + And soon to Indrapura came. + + When near + He halted and forthwith an envoy sent + His coming to announce, together with + The _laksimana mantri_. "Mighty King," + They said, "thy royal father hath arrived." + The King his heralds ordered then to call + Lila Mengindra. With a smile he said + To him: "Assemble in the square the folk + And army. Straight to my pavilion let + Them come, and all in holiday attire, + For I my father am to meet to-day." + Lila Mengindra bowed and hied him forth + To execute the orders of the King. + The King within his palace went, and sat + Upon a jewelled seat. The Queen was there, + And good Lila Mengindra at her side. + The King said smilingly: "Light of my eyes, + Let all the palace decorated be. + Assemble all the palace folk and all + The younger girls. For now without the gates + Our parents wait. To-morrow I shall go + To meet them." Then Queen Bidasari cried, + With smiles: "My brother they have come to see. + I cannot go before them and declare + Myself their daughter." But the young prince said: + "Oh, speak not thus, my sister, but give heed + To what I say to thee, and be not wroth. + If I'm the only one they love, alone + I'll go with them away." Then to the King + He said: "With my dear sister I but jest, + To quiet her alarms." He bowed before the King + And asked permission forth to go at once + To meet his father. "Nay," replied the King, + "We'll go together." A repast was served + With every kind of food. The royal three + Together ate. Then from the betel-box + They _siri_ took, and perfumes sweet they used. + The prince then from the palace forth did go. + Next day the King invited him to start + With him upon the royal progress. All + The banners waved, and everyone was glad. + Then to the Queen he said: "Stay here, my love, + And I will hither bring thy father dear." + These words rejoiced the Queen. She said: "Go forth, + My dear, and I will follow with my eyes." + The King then took his leave with the young prince, + With many _mantris_ following. The strains + Of gladsome music sounded. All the bells + Were rung, and those without the cavalcade + Were sad. + + Ere long they came to the frontier, + And King met King. The folk of Kembajat + Were all astonished at the young King's face, + As beautiful as painter's masterpiece. + The old King looked with smiles on all. His joy + Was great. The King of Indrapura bowed + Respectfully, and made them bring to him + The elephant that bore 'neath gay _payong_ + His consort's father. "Son, where goest thou?" + "I've come to seek thee." Then the old King said: + "Why didst thou come in person? 'Twould have been + Enough if thou hadst _mantris_ sent instead." + His joy o'erflowed his heart. His son-in-law + He greatly loved. Upon his elephant + He said: "Approach, my son, thou art a king + Renowned. Thy body and thy soul are both + Alike, and both of royal stock!" He pressed + Him in his arms and said: "Light of my eyes, + Almighty God hath heard my many prayers, + And granted me a perfect son-in-law." + The King of Indrapura bowed and smiled + Most graciously. Then to the young prince said + His father: "Mount, my son, beside me, here." + The young prince mounted at his father's side. + He was as beautiful as chiselled gold. + + Within the town the kings made entry then + Amid a joyous throng. When they had come, + The former merchant bowed before them both, + The _mangkouboumi_ now. The mighty King + Of Indrapura bowed and said: "My sire, + Speak to my uncle here; for he brought up + Thy daughter." Scarcely had the old King heard + These words than he exclaimed with joy: "Come here, + My brother, let us now acquaintance make." + The old King, seated on his elephant, + Shed all about him rays of happiness, + And all the people there were greatly moved. + "This is my brother well beloved," he said, + And kissed his brow. "How great hath been his love, + His faithfulness has proved beyond compare." + The former merchant bowed, and to the King + Replied: "I am thy slave, O King, and bear + Thine orders on my head. Thou dost o'erwhelm + Thy servant with thy favor." Then upon + The royal throne, which was all gem-bedecked, + The old King sat, the young prince at his side, + With all the _mantris_ near. Then came the Queen + Consort. The prince and Bidasari fair + Came from their seats, their mother to receive. + All entered then the palace. The young Queen, + Fair Bidasari, bowed and was embraced + By both her parents. With a flood of tears + Her father said: "Alas, my darling child, + Fruit of my heart, light of my eyes, keep not + A hatred in thy soul against us now. + The will of God is now made manifest. + We long have separated been. At last + We see each other with our very eyes. + Great wrong we did thus to abandon thee, + But still let not thy heart a stranger be + To us. Peace later came to our dear land-- + Such was our destiny. What could we do? + We were in flight. We thought, 'May God decree + Some honorable man shall find her here!' + How can we now be glad enough 'twas thus + Ordained! What recompense can we present?" + Sweet Bidasari wept as she recalled + The past. The King her husband was much moved, + And felt great pity when her tears he saw. + And all were sad with sorrow mixed with joy, + Because they knew she was of royal birth. + Food now was served, and quickly the _dyangs_ + Brought salvers for the princes. The two kings + Ate of the rice till they were surfeited, + Then to their children offered it. All took + The _siri_ placed before them, and straightway + Themselves anointed with rare perfumes sweet. + When all had eaten, the five royal ones + Lila Mengindra called, and gave to him + The remnants of the feast. The kings then spoke + To him and to his wife. They both bowed low + And kissed the royal hands. Then said the King + Of Kembajat: "My children, I had planned-- + In case we ever met on earth and ere + The prey of death became--a feast to give, + To last a month, and to it ye invite. + In triumph I my daughter fain would bear, + With all of ye. I would at once repair + Unto the isle of Nousa Antara, + And there I'd hold a royal festival + With all the members of our family, + And all the _bitis_, _mandars_, and _dyangs_. + Such was my plan--if ever I should find + My daughter dear. Now while this moon doth last + Let me the project see fulfilled before + Your parents come to die." + + The gracious King + Of Indrapura at these words bowed low + And said: "I bear thy words upon my head. + It shall be done as thou hast wished, my King." + And when the evening came all was prepared. + Soft mattresses were spread, and the two queens + Betook them to their chambers, and the rich + Egyptian curtains fell. They vainly sought to sleep. + They talked together of their sorrows past + And evil days. And neither kings nor queens + That night could slumber. + + At the break of day + The talking bird began to sing and prate. + A little later the _bajangs_ began + Their song. Then all arose, and bathed, and broke + Their fast, and chattered and amused themselves. + The King of Indrapura then gave word + Unto the _mangkouboumi_: "All prepare + That's necessary, ere the moon be full. + Get ready all the various kinds of ships, + And load them down with every sort of arms. + Prepare all sorts of games to pass the time, + And get in order all the cannons great + And fire-arms. Thus the King commands." + + Straightway + The _mangkouboumi_ bowed before the King, + And went his orders to obey. He made + The ships all ready, with new paint and gold. + When three were well equipped, on board he took + The people of the city. All the old + Were left behind, but of the young none stayed. + Then to the King the _mangkouboumi_ said, + "All is prepared." At this the King rejoiced, + And to the King of Kembajat sent word, + Who told his wife, and she was all aglow. + They started from the palace, kings and queen + And prince, and lovely Bidasari, too, + Attended by the courtiers all. The strains + Of music sounded and the bells were rung. + All those whose lot it was to stay at home + Were pained, as if a knife had stricken them. + The cannons roared; the royal banners waved. + + In three days' sail they reached the island fair, + Of Nousa Antara, and the ships made fast. + The two queens sat and watched the deft _dyangs_ + Take up the coral white and pink, and toyed + With pretty shells. The King set foot upon + The isle of Nousa Antara. The King + And his dear wife upon the shore came forth, + With their sweet daughter Bidasari pure. + The King of Indrapura with them went, + The prince walked near them on the left. + + The King + Of Indrapura ordered that a tent + Be raised, and one was made. It was as large + As any palace, set with royal throne. + The two queens entered it and sought repose. + The prince before his father bowed and said, + "My royal father, let me go and hunt." + To this the King of Kembajat replied, + "Do what thou dost desire, light of my eyes." + The King of Indrapura said with smiles, + "I'll go with thee to hunt, my brother dear." + The prince replied, "I shall in truth be charmed, + My brother." "Forth we'll fare to-morrow morn," + Returned the King of Indrapura. "Call + The folk together." + + When the dawn appeared, + The King and prince together started forth, + Escorted by a band of hunters tried, + And beat the woods for game. The King and prince + And all their following made rapid work. + The game took flight. The King then drew his bow + And many animals were killed. A deer + Came running by. His arrow struck him full + Upon the shoulder, and the huntsmen seized + And quickly killed him. In the pathless woods + Of Nousa Antara there was much game. + A tiger roared, the King and prince pursued. + The tiger swiftly fled. The prince sat down + Within the forest deep. To overtake + The beast he was unable. To return + He sought, but could not find the way. Alone + He was, and in perplexity, because + His huntsmen he no longer could descry. + Then, wandering to and fro, he found at last + A pleasure garden of the days gone by, + Belonging to King Lila, beautiful + And without flaw. He was astonished quite + When he perceived a palace. All alone + He found himself, when he had entered there. + He walked about, but found no living soul. + Unto himself he said: "Can this domain + A habitation be of demons dread + And spirits? Can this be the cause of all + The solitude which reigns?" On all sides then + He looked. All suddenly a voice he heard, + But still no one could see. Amazed he stood. + The mystic voice exclaimed, "Have pity, lord, + And free me from this room." As in a dream + The prince these accents heard. He answered then: + "Who art thou? Whose strange voice is this I hear, + The while I no one see? Dost thou belong + Unto the race of demons and of spectres? + Where is the key, that I may ope the door?" + Then the _dyang_ of Mendoudari said + Unto the prince: "Look toward the left, for there + The key thou'lt find that opes the palace tower." + He took the key and opened wide the door. + All those who were within, when they beheld + The prince's face, fell prostrate at his feet. + To them the prince cried out: "Say to what race + Ye do belong. This quickly tell. And whose + This palace beautiful?" Then answered him + Dang Tjindra Melini: "O Royal prince, + We are God's creatures, like to thee. And this + Fair palace of the King Lila is now + By Ifrid occupied, a spirit-king, + With whom now lives the prince illustrious, + Lila. His daughter, Princess Mendoudari, + Is shut alone within a chamber here, + And Ifrid, king of spirits, cometh oft. + On every third day cometh he. His eyes + Are brilliant as the sun." When this he heard + The prince was glad. The room he entered then. + The Princess Mendoudari sought to flee. + "Where wouldst thou go, my friend," he said. "I've sought + And found thee. Do not flee away from me." + The Princess Mendoudari said with tears: + "And art thou mad enough hither to come? + The spirits will destroy thee without doubt." + These words rejoiced the prince, and to her then + He sang a low sweet song of love and wooing. + The princess answered with a dreamy chant. + And when the young prince heard her gentle lay + He felt a yearning pity for her fate. + "Be not afraid, my dear," he said, "for I + Will triumph over all thine enemies." + Then Dang Sendari served them dainty food; + And what was left, to her the princess gave. + The prince too _siri_ from the betel-box + And rare sweet perfumes used. When evening came, + A soft couch for the prince was spread. And then + The princess sought her room, and curtains drew + Of rich Egyptian stuff. The prince had asked, + "When comes the spirit-king?" And she had said, + "At early dawn." The young prince could not sleep, + But through the long night hours sang soft _pantoums_. + When daylight came the prince arose. He heard + A spirit coming to the palace. Then with fear + Was seized the princess fair. "Behold," she cried, + "He cometh." Then the young prince took his arms. + "Fear not," he said; "have confidence in God. + What he decrees must always come to pass. + If I'm destroyed, then follow me in death. + I only ask one thing of thee, my love. + When I am dead, I pray thee weep for me, + And let thy mantle be my winding-sheet. + Now let thy glances follow as I go." + + I'll tell of Ifrid now--the spirit-king. + He lurked beneath the palace. When he heard + The princess talking with the prince his ire + Arose like burning flame. His cry was like + A thunder-burst. The very palace shook. + "Depart from here," unto the prince he roared, + "And feel my mighty power." Then sweet love-songs + Exchanging with the princess went he forth. + His mien was like Sang Samba's, and his face + Was nobly firm, as if he went to meet + A roaring tiger. At his side he wore + A rare carbuncled sword, and arrows bore + With points in deadly poison dipped. Ifrid, + The creature with two heads, like spectre came + With laughter horrid. He took up a stone + And hurled it at the prince, who dodged its flight. + Then full of wrath Ifrid upon him rushed. + But swift the prince let fly an arrow sharp, + And pierced his heart. One groan, and then he fell, + And died beside the river. Then the prince + Made haste to join the princess. + + When she saw + The spirit Ifrid dead she much rejoiced + And bowed before the prince. Great gladness shone + In her fair face, because her woe had ceased, + And she was happy that 'twas to the prince + She owed her rescue. 'Twas as if she'd found + A mountain great of jewels. Then she said: + "Caliph a high divinity once was + And called himself King Lila. God will bless + Thee for thy deeds, O mighty prince." + + The prince + With kisses said: "Thou hast a charming mouth. + Thy form is supple. Prithee tell me why + I should not love thee? Thou art beautiful + As a statue of pure gold, and thou shalt be + A princess in my palace. Well I know + Thine origin is noble, and thy race + Is high." They gayly chatted while some food + Was served. The prince, with pleasure, at the side + Of the fair princess ate. When all was done + He took some _siri_ from the betel-box + And perfumes used. "Thou art a jasmine sweet," + He said, "an antidote to every ill, + And thou shalt be my wife." + + Next day the prince + Took her behind him on his horse, and they + Departed. The _dyangs_ accompanied them. + + Now will I tell about the _mantris_ all. + Until the fall of evening, with the King + Of Indrapura, they in waiting stayed, + To welcome back the prince. And much disturbed + They were that he delayed so long to come. + The King then bade them seek the prince, and see + Why he remained so long apart from them. + Then _mantris_ four set out, and hunted far + And wide, but found him not. They brought the news + That he could not be found. The King was sad + And ordered them to go and tell the King, + His wife's dear father, that the prince was lost. + The old King fainted when he heard the tale. + With oil of rose they sprinkled him, and back + Unto his senses came he. "O my child," + He said, "my heart hath lost all hope. Where now + Art thou? I'll go, myself, to seek." + + The King + Wept much, and his dear wife. And as for her-- + Sweet Bidasari--she appeared to wish + To kill herself, for never on the earth + Did brother love his sister like the prince + And Bidasari. At the fall of day + Back came the King of Indrapura, sad + And weeping. Then the King of Kembajat + Said: "O my son, be silent. Do not weep, + For thou dost but increase the pain I feel." + But Indrapura's King replied: "Alas! + He was my brother true, so brave and good!" + But while they were lamenting thus the prince + Stood there before them with his consort fair. + He bowed to all. The King, his father, saw + And could not speak. He thought, "It is the voice + Of my dear son." Then recognition came + And he was wild with joy. The prince then told + How he had chased the tiger, and had lost + His way within a wood: how he had killed + A spirit there, Ifrid, the dread. + + The King + Heard all he said and much rejoiced. Then came + The servants serving tasteful food to all. + The King ate with his wife and children dear. + Together they were six. All sorts of rare + And dainty food were served them, and the King + Took _siri_ from the betel-box, and used + Sweet perfumes. The great King of Kembajat + Then gave a festival which lasted quite + Seven days, with music and diversions gay. + Glad joy was at its height, of pleasure born + And of the dance. The kings amused themselves. + All kinds of games they had. Intji Bibi, + A singer of Malacca, sang with grace. + The seven days passed, the Princess Mendoudari + Was all in finery arrayed. The wives + Of the two kings took her in hand. The prince + Was by the _mangkouboumi_ ta'en in charge. + The princess sweetest perfumes did exhale. + Her manners were most gracious and polite + As of a well-born person. Every sort + Of gem and jewel sparkled from her robes. + She wore a ring--'twas _astokouna_ called-- + And yet another one, _glangkano_ named, + And still another, with bright stones all carved + In fashion of Ceylon. Her tresses curled + Like to a full-blown flower, and on them shone + Full many precious stones. The _tourie_ buds + Became her well. Her features were as bright + As those of some celestial being pure. + Fair Mendoudari thus was clad, and led + To the bride's seat, and at her either hand + Stood _mantris'_ daughters seven with waving fans. + Meanwhile the _mangkouboumi_ patiently + Achieved the tiring of the prince. He wore + A royal crown, made in the island fair + Called Nousa Antara, and a rich coat + Which opened at the sides, made in the West. + A chiselled necklace hung about his neck. + His tunic flamed with orange, like the robe + Of great Schahid Schah Pri. His girdle bright + Was cloth of _tjindi_, fringed with agates rare. + An amulet he wore with diamond pure, + With sacred words engraved of the Koran. + He wore a jewel like a butterfly, + Most beautiful, and many rings and gems. + His features of the rarest beauty were, + Like those of some divinity of heaven. + When thus arrayed, the youthful prince came forth + And made obeisance to his parents both. + He went to the appointed place, and all + The children of the court assembled there + Before him, while two sons of heralds stood + Beside him, waving fans like floating clouds. + All kept the strictest silence. Then a band + Of soldiers came, with blades all glittering. + The royal sword, all diamond decked, flashed rays + Of light. Three times around the island went + They all, with sound of music and the noise + Of bells. And all who heard in vain essayed + To estimate the number. Everyone + Ran forth to see the progress--men and women. + Some tore their garments, some their children lost, + Distracted by the pleasure and the noise. + When ended the procession, the young prince + At Princess Mendoudari's right was placed, + Within the palace. Then to them was brought + Rice called _adapadap_, and they became + A wedded pair. And all the folk dispersed. + In three days' time was Mendoudari dressed + Anew by Bidasari. She was robed + With vesture of embroidered silk. The prince + Was likewise gayly clad, to suit the glad + Occasion. Now again they made, in state, + A royal progress round about the isle. + The King and Bidasari rode in one + Grand chariot, and, within another, went + The prince and Mendoudari, his fair bride. + Then back they came for rest, upon the soft + Rich palace cushions. Then the mighty King + Of Kembajat inquired of his dear wife: + "What think'st thou, love? Shall we to-morrow morn + Return?" With smiles the Queen replied, "I bear + Thine orders on my head." Next day the hearts + Of all the royal company were filled + With joy. The officers assembled then + To take the King's commands, and he was pleased + To see them dutiful. The following morn + The song of the _bajans_ awaked the King. + At early dawn each princess with her lord, + And all the officers, embarked upon + The ship. They sailed far from the island fair, + Nousa Antara, and in three days came + To Indrapura and the river's mouth. + When at the palace they arrived again, + The _mantris_ came in joy and kissed their hands. + The King of Kembajat said that he wished + To go. Scarce had fair Indrapura's King + Heard that his parents to their home desired + At once to go, when he the _mantris_ called + And orders gave. The King of Kembajat + Set out with his dear wife next day at dawn. + Within the palace of their daughter sweet + They met fair Indrapura's King. The King + Of Kembajat sat at his side, and said + In softest tones: "Well, Bidasari, child, + Thy parents now will homeward fare. Obey + The King, thy gracious husband, in all things. + The former merchant brought thee up. He will + A father be to thee. Strive hard to win + Thy husband's heart, and never disregard + His wishes." Scarcely had she heard these words + Than at her father's knees she fell, and shed + A flood of tears. The King embraced his child + And, weeping, said: "My daughter dear, pure gold, + My crown's chief gem, light of my very eyes, + Branch of my heart, be not disturbed, my soul, + Nor let thy heart be sad." The royal four + All wept together. Then the father said: + "My son, accomplished prince, we trust to thee + Our Bidasari. Show her the right path + If she aside should step, for hither she + As prisoner came. Correction should she need, + For us it will not be a shame." At this + Fair Indrapura's King was greatly moved. + He bowed and said: "My father, speak not thus. + I have the best opinion of the girl. + Our hearts are one, as body with the soul. + This kingdom all is hers, the guardian I + Of her possessions, and I'll satisfy + Her every wish." The King with joy replied: + "Well, daughter, jewel of my crown, thou art + No more beneath my sway, but wholly now + Under the orders of thy husband dear." + He much was moved, and to the _mangkouboumi_ + Said, "Brother, take my treasures all, for we + Can never all thy goodness recompense." + The former merchant and his wife bowed low: + "Your gratitude, O prince, is great, but all + Thy treasures are thy royal daughter's meed. + For her we'll guard them." But the King replied: + "Nay, speak not thus, my brother. Should I give + All Indrapura's weight in purest gold + It would not pay thee for thy care and love. + We are to thee devoted from our hearts." + At dawn they breakfasted, but all were sad, + Because from Bidasari now must part + Her parents dear and brother. Much she wept + Because she felt her heart go out to him + Her brother. Then she said: "I've one to take + The place of parents, but where shall I find + A brother?" Princess Mendoudari bowed + To Bidasari, and they kissed with tears. + Fair Bidasari said: "My sister dear, + Sweet Mendoudari, when wilt thou return? + Stay not too long at Kembajat, for I + Could not thine absence bear. Farewell, my love." + The King embraced his daughter. Bitterly + Both wept. The royal father said, "Stay here, + My son-in-law, with thy dear wife." The King + Before his parents bowed. The youthful prince + Before the King his brother bowed, and went + To Bidasari's side, his sister dear, + With heavy heart. Then, weeping much, he said: + "O sister mine, gem of my crown, be not + So sorrowful. I go, but if thou dost + Desire, I'll come each year to visit thee." + Sweet Bidasari kissed him. But her grief + Was inexpressible. "O brother dear, + Illustrious prince," she said, "thine absence would + E'en then be much too long." The prince replied, + With bows: "Assuage thy grief, my sister dear. + For if the King permits, perhaps I may + Come sooner back to thee." + + The mighty King + Of Indrapura said, in friendly tones: + "Although he be thy brother, still, my dear, + I love him much. We ne'er have had the least + Misunderstanding. Why art thou not gay? + And why art thou not willing he should go? + If 'twere not for thy father I would keep + Him here." + + The King departed, followed by + His son, who took his father just beyond + The gates. The _mangkouboumi_ bowed his head + Before the King, who with much ardor said, + "O father of dear Bidasari, give + Aid and protection to thy lovely child." + The _mangkouboumi_ bowed again, and said: + "Whate'er is fit, I'll do. Upon my head + I bear thine orders. I thy servant am." + The prince embraced the former merchant too, + And said, "O uncle dear, my sister guide, + And counsel her if any fault she doth." + Then said the King of Kembajat, "My son, + Come, let us start at once." + + So forth he fared. + The prince and all the escort with him went. + A few days passed and they were home again. + New garments to the escort all were given, + And many presents to the officers. + By _mantris_ four the King rich treasures sent + Unto his children loved, with many steeds + And elephants. When safely they arrived + At Indrapura, they appeared before + The _mangkouboumi_. He presented them + Unto the King, and said: "O sire, these gifts + Are from thy son." The King replied: "Why dost + Thou bring them here, my uncle? Keep them all + In thine own treasury." Then he retired + Within and said to Bidasari sweet: + "Thy father, dear, hath sent us presents rare, + And four young _mantris_, and a thousand men + With elephants and horses. All is thine." + The fair young Queen with smiles to him replied: + "All that with me to share thou dost desire. + Whatever be thy wish, I wish it too." + The King adored his wife, and was to her + Devoted. His great happiness increased + And his domains extended every year. + When Bidasari's royal birth was known, + The news spread far and wide, and everywhere + Was told. The realm of Indrapura grew + More populous and powerful year by year. + + The wicked Princess Lila Sari lived + Alone and desolate, in sadness deep + And full repentance for her evil deeds. + + This song is weak because my skill is small. + My heart was deeply stirred. And that is why + I made, poor fakir I, this poem here. + I have not made it long, because too sad + I was, and troubled. Now at last 'tis done. + For this, at least, your blessings I deserve. + +THE END. + + + + +SEDJARET MALAYOU + +LEGENDS OF THE MALAY ARCHIPELAGO + +[Translated by M. Devic and Chauncey C. Starkweather] + + +Once upon a time lived King Iskender, son of King Darab. He traced his +origin to Roum; Macedonia was his native country, and Dhoul-Garnein his +surname. Now it happened that this prince set out upon his travels to +find the place where the sun rose; and he arrived at the frontier of +India. There reigned in this country a very powerful king, to whom half +of India was in subjection; and his name was King Kida Hindi. As soon +as King Kida Hindi heard of King Iskender's approach, he gave orders to +his prime minister, who gathered together the armies and princes who +were subject to him. When all were met together, he marched forth to +meet King Iskender. The two armies engaged and the conflict was carried +on with extreme activity on both sides, as is related in the history of +King Iskender. Kida Hindi was defeated and taken alive. Iskender +ordered him to embrace the true faith, and Kida Hindi embraced the +faith and became enrolled in the religion of the prophet Abraham, the +friend of God, to whom be the glory! Then King Iskender caused him to +be clothed in a garment like his own, and bade him return to his own +country. + +King Kida Hindi was the father of a very beautiful girl, whose equal +was not to be found in her day. Her face had the dazzling lustre of the +sun or the moon; she was modest and discreet. Her name was Chehr-el- +Beria. King Kida Hindi took his prime minister aside and said to him: + +"I have summoned you to ask your advice on the subject of my daughter, +whose equal in these days cannot be found. I have formed the project of +presenting her to King Iskender." + +The minister answered: "Your Majesty has made a wise decision." + +"Very well," replied the King, "to-morrow, God willing, you shall go +and find the prophet Khidar and relate to him the whole matter." + +Next day accordingly the minister set out to find the prophet Khidar. +After his departure King Kida Hindi commanded that the name of King +Iskender should be inscribed on the coins and standards of his realm. +When the minister approached the prophet Khidar he made a salaam to +him, which the prophet returned and asked him to be seated. Then the +minister spoke as follows: + +"You must know, O prophet of God, that my King entertains for King +Iskender an affection so fervent that I cannot describe it. He is the +father of a girl who has no equal among the children of this world's +monarchs from the rising to the setting sun. She is without a rival in +face, wit, and goodness of disposition. Now the desire of the King is +to present the princess before King Iskender, with the view of +ultimately giving her to him for his wife." + +Now the soldiers of King Souran laid siege against the walled town of +Gangga-Chah Djouhan; but those on guard repulsed them, so that they +could not get near. Seeing this, King Souran advanced, mounted on an +untamed elephant. Taking no heed to the arrows that were launched +against him by the defenders of the wall, he reached the gate and +struck it with his mace. The gate gave way and King Souran entered, +followed by his warriors. + +When King Gangga-Chah Djouhan saw King Souran approaching, he seized +his bow and shot an arrow with haste. The arrow struck the forehead of +King Souran's elephant. The elephant fell on his knees. King Souran +quickly leaped to the ground, drawing his sword as he did so; at a +single stroke he struck through the neck of King Gangga-Chah, and the +severed head rolled to the ground. The forces of Gangga-Nagara, as soon +as they saw their prince fall, demanded the _aman_ (i.e., truce). + +King Gangga-Chah Djouhan had a sister, named Princess Zaras Gangga. She +was exceedingly beautiful. The victorious prince took her for his wife. +Then he resumed his march. + +Some time afterward he reached the city of Ganggayon. It was formerly a +great city, the black stones of whose fortress survive even to this +day. This fortress is at the extremity of the river Djoher. The name +Ganggayon in the Siamese tongue means "treasury of emeralds." The King +of the city was Rajah Tchoulin; he was a powerful prince, to whom all +the kings of the land did obeisance. + +On the news of King Souran's approach, King Tchoulin called together +all his troops and sent word to the kings who were his tributaries. +When all were assembled he set out to repel the invaders. The multitude +of his soldiers was like the waves of the sea; his elephants and +horses stood up among them like islands; his flags and standards +presented the appearance of a forest, and the cows' tails fluttering at +the pike-heads presented the appearance of _lalang_ ploughers. + +The army came in four bodies and reached the banks of a river. There +they saw the soldiers of King Souran, ranged like forest-trees. The +Siamese exclaimed, "Pangkal," a word which means "river," and hence +that river became known as the river Pangkal. + +The soldiers of Siam at once joined battle with the soldiers of Kling, +who were Hindoos; and the battle raged with indescribable confusion. +The soldiers mounted on elephants pressed forward these great beasts; +the men on horseback made their horses champ with fury; the lancers +pressed home their lances; those who carried pikes plied them +furiously; and those who bore sabres dealt many a doughty stroke. Blood +flowed like rain. The crash of thunder would have been drowned by the +shouts of the warriors and the clash of arms. The dust that rose from +the plain obscured the brightness of the day like an eclipse of the +sun. So complete was the confusion with which the contestants mingled +that it was not possible to distinguish the combatants of either side: +each assailant was at the same time the assailed, and he who struck +with his weapon himself at the same moment was stricken with a blow. +Sometimes the soldiers attacked a comrade by mistake. Every moment +crowds of people on either side were killed and wounded, many horses +and elephants had their throats cut, and the blood shed covered the +ground. The dust had disappeared; the combatants were seen struggling +in masses so compact that neither party was able to retire from the +battle. + +King Tchoulin managed to force a way by means of the elephant he rode +through the innumerable horde of King Souran's soldiers; the corpses +were piled up beneath his feet. A crowd of Hindoo warriors lost their +lives. The rest of them began to give way. King Souran, on perceiving +this, dashed forward to meet King Tchoulin in single combat. He mounted +an untamed elephant eight cubits high that had no driver. But the +elephant of King Tchoulin was also very brave. The two animals met; +they attacked each other; the clash of their encounter was like the +thunder that rends the earth; their tusks clashing and intertwining +made a sound like that of a storm that never ceases. Neither could +triumph over the other. + +Then King Tchoulin raised himself upon the beast he rode and brandished +a javelin. He hurled it against King Souran; the javelin struck the +elephant on his flank and pierced deep. At the same time King Souran +shot an arrow which smote King Tchoulin in the breast and came out at +his back. That prince fell to the earth and expired. The soldiers +seeing their king dead, broke ranks and took flight in utter disorder, +pursued by the Hindoos, who put to the sword all they overtook. +Penetrating the ramparts of Ganggayon the Hindoo soldiers pillaged the +town; the booty was immense. + +King Tchoulin had a daughter, extremely beautiful. Her name was the +princess Ouangkion; she was presented to King Souran, who took her for +his wife. + +The King then resumed his march and arrived at Temasik. The rumor of +his approach soon reached China. People said, "Lo! King Souran comes +with a countless army to conquer China. He has already reached +Temasik." This news was heard with dire alarm by the King of China. He +said to his ministers and to his officers: + +"What must be done to repel this invading multitude? If the King of +Kling arrives here, he will doubtless ruin our country." + +The prime minister said: "O King of the world; I have a device for +repelling him." + +"Very good," said the King; "do not fail to try it." + +The prime minister therefore caused a _pilo_, or ship, to be fitted out +with rusty needles. They took also two kinds of trees, kamses and +jujube trees, laden with fruit; these were placed on board ship with +the soil in which they grew. Old men who had lost their teeth were +chosen for passengers and crew. To these the minister gave his +instructions and they started for Temasik. + +When they had reached this place King Souran was informed that a ship +had arrived from China. "Go and ask these strangers," he said to his +attendants, "at what distance does this country lie from us." The +attendant put this question to the crew of the _pilo_ and received the +following reply: + +"When we left China we were all still young, being scarcely twelve +years old; and these trees were seeds which we had sown. But you see +how old we are now, and how our teeth are fallen out; the grains of +seed have become trees in fruit, and all this has happened during the +time it has taken us to reach here." + +At the same time they took the needles of which they had a large +quantity and said as they showed them to the Hindoos: + +"When we started from China, these were as thick as a man's arm, and +now see how they are worn out by the rust. This will give you an idea +of the length of the voyage: we could not keep count of the years and +the months." + +On hearing this answer of the Chinese, the Hindoos ran to report it to +King Souran, to whom they repeated all they had heard. + +"If the thing is as they say," replied the prince, "the land of China +is still a very long way off. When shall we arrive there? We had better +return home." + +"His Majesty is undoubtedly right," said the officers. + +King Souran meditated thus: "Behold, the contents of the land is known +to me, but how can I learn the contents of the sea? I must needs enter +the sea, in order to know it." + +Then he summoned his engineers and skilful men, and ordered them to +fashion a box of glass with lock and fastenings within, in order that +he might shut himself in it. The engineers made the box of glass just +as the King desired it; they furnished it with a chain of the purest +gold; then they presented it to King Souran, who was exceedingly well +pleased with it, and rewarded them all with rich presents. + +The prince entered into the box, disappeared from the eyes of all +present, and shut the door upon himself. They took the box to the sea, +and let it descend even to the bottom. What treasures, what wealth, +works of the Almighty, were seen by King Souran! The box fell until it +reached a land called Dika. There King Souran came out of the box, and +went forward, seeing most wonderful things. He arrived at a great and +strongly fortified town, which he entered and saw a vast population, +whose number God alone knows. This people, who call themselves the +Badsam people, were composed of believers and unbelievers. + +The inhabitants of the town were astonished to see the face of King +Souran, and his garments they looked upon with astonishment. They +conducted him to the presence of their King, whom they call Agtab-al- +Ard (_i.e._, Bowels of the Earth). This prince asked, "What man is +this?" + +"My lord," was the reply, "it is a stranger, who arrived a moment ago." + +"Whence does he come?" + +"We do not know." + +Then the King addressed King Souran himself and said, "Who are you, and +whence do you come?" + +King Souran replied: "I come from the world; I am the king of men; my +name is King Souran." + +King Agtab-al-Ard was very much astonished on hearing these words. +"There is, then," he said, "another world beside ours?" + +"The world," replied King Souran, "contains many races." + +"Glory to God almighty," said the King, full of surprise. Then he made +King Souran ascend and sit with him on the royal throne. + +Agtab-al-Ard had a daughter, of great beauty, named Princess Mah-tab- +al-Bahri ("Moon of the Sea"). He gave her in marriage to King Souran. +That prince dwelt three years with her and had three male children by +her. When he thought about these three children King Souran felt much +troubled. He said to himself: "What will become of them, here, under +the earth? Or how shall I withdraw them hence?" + +He went to see Agtab-al-Ard, and said to him: "If my sons grow up, will +your Majesty allow me to see that they are brought into the upper +world, in order that the royal line of Sultan Iskender Dhoul-Quameen +may not be broken to the end of time?" + +The King answered, "I shall not hinder you." + +Then King Souran took leave of the King and prepared for his return. +The King and his daughter shed many tears at parting. Then the King +gave orders to bring the horse Sembrani, named Paras-al-Bahri +("Sea-horse"), which he gave to King Souran. The prince mounted the +horse, which bore him from the sea, and carried him in the air above +the billows. + +The troops of King Souran caught sight of the horse Sembrani, and +recognized in its rider their King. The prime minister at once took a +beautiful mare and led it to the shore. The sea-horse saw the mare and +came to land to meet her, and King Souran descended. Then the horse +Sembrani went back into the sea. + +King Souran said to his wise men and engineers: "Raise a monument which +shall witness to my journey in the sea; for I wish the memory of it to +be preserved even to the Resurrection day. Write out the story, so that +it may be told to all my descendants." + +In obedience to the words of the King the wise men and engineers set up +a stone on which they traced an inscription in the tongue of Hindostan. +This done, King Souran gathered a quantity of gold, silver, jewels, +gems, and precious treasures, which he laid up under the stone. + +"At the end of the centuries," he said, "there will come a king among +my descendants who will find these riches. And this king will subdue +every country over which the wind blows." + +After this, King Souran returned to the land of Kling. There he built a +mighty city, protected by a wall of black stone having seven rows of +masonry thick and nine fathoms high; the engineers made it with such +skill that the joints of the stones were invisible, and the wall seemed +cast of a single substance. The gate was of steel, enriched with gold +and precious stones. + +This rampart enclosed seven hills. In the centre of the city extended a +pool vast as the sea; from one bank it was impossible to discern an +elephant standing up on the other. It contained very many kinds of +fishes. In the midst of it rose a very lofty island, always covered +with a mantle of mist. The King caused to be planted there every sort +of flowering and fruit-bearing tree to be found in the world. None was +lacking, and to this island the King would repair when he wished for +recreation. + +He caused also to be planted on the banks of the pool a vast forest +wherein wild animals were at large. And when the King wished to hunt, +or catch elephants in the snare, he went to this forest. When the town +was completed the King called it after himself, Souran-Bidgi-Nagara, +and this town still exists in the province of Kling. + +In short, if one wished to relate all the rest of King Souran's history +he would find it as long as that of Sidi Hanza. + + + +THE ADVENTURES OF BADANG + +It is related that there once lived at Salouang a husbandman who owned +a slave named Badang, whom he employed in clearing forest-land. It +happened one day that Badang spread his nets in the river; but on the +following morning he found his net quite empty, and by its side some +fish-scales and fish-bones. The same thing took place for some days +following. Badang flung the fish-scales (_sisik_) into the river; from +which circumstance was derived the river's name, Besisik. + +Meanwhile the slave said to himself: "Who is it who eats the fish +caught in my net? I must watch and find out." + +With this intention he hid one day behind some trees and saw a +_hantou_, or evil genius, or monster, who was eating the fish taken in +his net. This _hantou_ had eyes red as fire, his hair was like woven +osiers, and his beard fell down to his waist. Badang drew his knife, +and, screwing up his courage, rushed up to the _hantou_ and seized him. + +"Every day," he said, "you eat up my fish. But this time you shall die +at my hands." + +On hearing these words, the _hantou_ was afraid, and slipped aside, +wishing to avoid the hands of his adversary; but failing to do so, he +said to him: "Do not kill me; I will give you what you wish, on +condition that you spare my life." + +Badang thought: "If I ask for riches, my master will claim them. If I +ask the power to become invisible, they will put me to death as a +sorcerer. Therefore it is best for me to ask for the gift of physical +strength, in order that I may do the work of my master." + +In accordance with this resolution, Badang said to the _hantou_, "Give +me the gift of physical strength; let me be strong enough to tear down +and to uproot the trees; that is, that I may tear down, with one hand, +great trees, a fathom or two in girth." + +The _hantou_ answered: "Your prayer is granted. You wish for strength; +I will give it to you; but first it is necessary that you eat up what I +vomit." + +"Very well," said Badang; "vomit, and I will eat it up." The _hantou_ +vomited, and Badang set to work to eat it. He held the _hantou_ by the +beard, and would not let him go. Then he attempted the uprooting of +great trees; and, seeing that he tore them up with ease, he let go the +beard of the _hantou_. + +Afterward, coming and going through the forest, he tore down enormous +trees; he carried off, roots and all, those of a fathom or two in +girth. As for the small ones, he tore them up by handfuls and flung +them on all sides. In a moment the forest which had been a wilderness +became level as a great plain. + +When his master saw this work he said: "Who has cleared our land? For I +see that it is suddenly freed entirely from trees and brushwood." + +"It is I," said Badang, "who have effected this clearance." + +Then answered the master: "How have you been able to do this, single- +handed, so quickly and in one job?" + +Then Badang related all the details of his adventure, and his master +gave him his liberty. + +The report of these occurrences reached Singapore. King Krama +immediately ordered that Badang be brought before him, and he called +him Raden (_i.e._, Royal Prince). + +Once upon a time the King of Singapore ordered Badang to fetch for his +repast the fruit of _kouras_, at the river Sayang. Badang went there +alone in his _pilang_, or boat, which was eight fathoms long, and he +punted it with a pole cut from the trunk of a kampas-tree a fathom in +girth. + +When he arrived at the river Sayang, he clasped the _kouras_-tree. The +branches broke, the tree fell, and his head struck against a huge rock. +His head was not injured, but the rock was split in two. This stone is +still seen to-day on the river Sayang, and it bears the name of Balou- +blah, which means the "Riven Rock." His pole and boat have also been +preserved to the present day. The day following his exploit Badang +started back for Singapore, with his _pilang_ completely laden with +sugar-cane, bananas, and _keladion_, or edible lily, root. He had eaten +the whole cargo before he arrived at Djohor-the-Old. + +On another occasion the King of Singapore had caused a large ship to be +built, fifteen fathoms long, in front of the palace. The vessel being +finished, between forty and fifty men were ordered to push it into the +water. They were unable to launch it. As many as 2,000 or 3,000 persons +were equally unsuccessful. Then the King ordered Badang to undertake +the operation. Badang undertook the task unaided, and pushed with such +force that the vessel went right across the strait to the other shore. +For this feat the King appointed him _houloubalong_, or officer of +military rank. + +A report reached the province of Kling that among the officers of the +King was a man of extraordinary strength, named Badang. Now there was a +powerful athlete at the court of the King of Kling, who had no rival in +the country. His name was Madia-Bibjaya-Pelkrama. The King ordered him +to go to Singapore with seven vessels; "Go," said he, "and wrestle with +this officer. If he defeat you, give him as a prize the cargo of the +seven vessels; if you are victorious, demand of him an equal forfeit." + +"I obey, your Majesty," said the athlete, and started off with the +seven vessels. + +When he arrived at Singapore they brought news to the King of the city, +saying: "An athlete has arrived from the land of Kling to compete with +Badang in many kinds of sports. If he is defeated, he will leave the +cargo of his seven vessels as forfeit." + +The King came out of his palace to give audience. The Hindoo athlete +presented himself. The prince told him to try a bout with Badang. +Badang beat him in every round. + +Now facing the _balerong_, or court of audience, was an enormous rock. +The athlete said to Badang: "Come, let us match our strength by lifting +this stone. Whoever cannot lift it will be conquered." + +"Do you try first," said Badang. + +The athlete commenced, and made many attempts without succeeding in +lifting it. At last, mustering all his strength, he raised it to the +height of his knee and let it fall again. + +"Now it is your turn, my master," he said. + +"Very good," answered Badang, and lifting the stone he swung it in the +air, then hurled it toward the river, at the entrance to the town, +where it is still seen at the extremity of the point of Singapore. + +The athlete of Kling, thus vanquished, handed to Badang the seven +vessels and their cargoes; then he returned, very much saddened and +mortified by his defeat. + +Now the report came to the country of Perlak that there was at +Singapore an officer of the King named Badang without a rival in +extraordinary strength. The King of Perlak, so runs the story, had an +athlete named Bandarang, also very strong and of a great reputation. +This athlete was before the King when they spoke of Badang. + +"My lord," he asked, "is Badang stronger than I am? If you will permit +me, I will go to Singapore to try an assault with him." + +"Very well; go to Singapore," said the King. Turning to the prime +minister, Toun Parapatih, he said: + +"Get ready a _praho_, for I am going to send Bandarang to Singapore." +When all was ready, a royal litter was prepared and the minister +embarked with the athlete, and after a while reached Singapore. Prince +Sri Rana Ouira Krama received the King's litter in the audience- +chamber, among the radjas, ministers, body-guards, heralds, and other +grand officers upon his command. + +Then the prince, addressing the ambassador, asked: "With what +commission is our brother charged?" + +The ambassador replied: "Behold, I have received the command of your +illustrious younger brother to bring here this subject Bandarang, to +try his strength with Badang. If Bandarang is vanquished, your brother +will place at your Majesty's feet the contents of a storehouse; and if +Badang succumbs, you shall offer us the equivalent." + +"Very well," said the King; "to-morrow everything shall be arranged for +the struggle." The King retired to the palace, summoned Badang, and +said to him: + +"You know, Badang, that to-morrow you will have to contend with +Bandarang." + +"My lord," answered Badang, "know that this man is a powerful athlete, +of extraordinary strength, famous in all countries. If your slave is +vanquished will it not cast some discredit on the sovereign? If your +Majesty thinks it wise, let us both be called into your presence +together, so that I may test him; and if I feel myself capable of +competing with him, we will have the contest; but if he is too strong +for me, then your Majesty can oppose the struggle." + +"You are right," said the King. That is why, when night came, the +prince invited Toun Parapatih Pendek, Bandarang, and their companions. +When they arrived they were served with a collation. Bandarang was +seated beside Badang, who began to test him. They tried each other's +strength without attracting attention. + +At the end of an hour, when the guests were in wine, the King asked +Badang if he were strong enough to struggle with Bandarang, who +declared that he was equal to him. On the other hand, when Toun +Parapatih Pendek had returned to the ship, Bandarang said to him: + +"Lord, if you will permit me to advise, there will be no contest +between Badang and me. I might not conquer, for I have learned how +powerful he is." + +"Very well," said the minister; "it is very easy to arrange that." + +So the minister said to the King: "It is my opinion that we should +prevent this struggle; for if one of the contestants should be +vanquished in some bad way, a quarrel might arise out of it between +your Majesty and the sovereign your brother." + +The King agreed, and the ambassador asked leave to return home. The +prince had a letter written for the King of Perlak. It was carried in +state on board the ship and the envoy, after receiving vestments of +honor, set sail to his own country. Arriving, he told the King all that +had taken place. Later Badang died and was buried at Bourou. When the +news of his death arrived at that country, the King of Kling sent a +carved stone, which is now seen at Bourou. + +And now as to the kings of Pasey. The authors of this story declare +that there were two brothers named Marah who lived near Pasangan. They +were originally from the mountain of Sanggong. The elder was named +Mara-Tchaga, and the younger Marah-Silou. Marah-Silou was engaged in +casting nets. Having taken some _kalang-kalang_, he rejected them and +cast his net anew. The _kalang-kalang_ were caught again. After several +attempts with the same result, Marah-Silou had these _kalang-kalang_ +boiled. And behold, the wretched things became gold and their froth +became silver. Marah-Silou caught more _kalang-kalang_, boiled them, +and again saw them become gold and silver. He had thus acquired much +store of gold and silver, when one day the news came to Marah-Tchaga +that his younger brother was catching _kalang-kalang_, and he was so +irritated that he wished to kill him. When Marah-Silou learned of this +design, he took refuge in the forest of Djawn. The place where he +fished is still called the Plain of Kalang-Kalang. + +Marah-Silou, established in the forest of Djawn, gave gold to those who +dwelt there, and they all obeyed his commands. One day when he was +hunting, his dog, named Si Pasey, began to bark on a slight hill which +one would have believed made by the hand of man. Climbing the small +hill he saw an ant as big as a cat. He took it and ate it up. The place +was afterward called Samodra; that is to say, "The Big Ant." Now it is +said that the prophet of God--blessings be upon him!--once told his +companions: + +"There will be a country some day, toward the south, called Samoudra. +When you hear it spoken of, hasten thither to convert the inhabitants +to Islam, for in that country many will become the friends of God. But +there will also be the king of a country called Mataba, whom you must +take with you." + +A long time after this decree of the prophet, the fakir Mahomet went to +Samoudra. Reaching the shore, he met Marah-Silou, who was gathering +shells. The fakir asked him: + +"What is the name of this country?" + +"Its name is Samoudra," answered Marah-Silou. + +"And what is the sovereign's name?" + +"I am the sovereign of all who dwell here," said Marah-Silou. + +The fakir Mahomet converted Marah-Silou to Islam and taught him the +words of the creed. Now Marah-Silou being asleep dreamed that he was in +the presence of the prophet of God, and the prophet said to him, +"Marah-Silou, open your mouth." He opened it and the prophet spat in +it, and Marah-Silou, awaking, perceived throughout his whole body a +perfume like that of spikenard. When day broke he told his dream. + +"This is truly the country of Samoudra of which the prophet of God has +spoken," said the fakir Mahomet. Bringing from the ship all the royal +ensigns aboard, he proclaimed Marah-Silou king with the title of Sultan +Melik-es-Salih. + +Sultan Melik-es-Salih sent Sidi Ali Ghaiath-ed-Din to the country of +Perlak. This prince had three daughters, two of blood-royal on their +mother's side, and one born of a concubine. The latter was called the +princess Ganggang. When Sidi Ali Ghaiath arrived at Perlak they showed +him the three daughters. The two sisters of the blood-royal were seated +lower than the princess Ganggang, who occupied a high seat. The latter, +by order of her father, was cleaning arec nuts for her two sisters, +like one doing the honors of the household. She wore rose-colored +garments and a violet cloak. Her ears were adorned with _soubangs_ made +with the young leaves of the _lontar_. She was very beautiful. + +Sidi Ali Ghaiath-ed-Din said to the King of Perlak, "That one of your +daughters who is seated above is the one I ask in marriage for my +master, your son." The envoy knew not that Princess Ganggang was the +daughter of a concubine. + +The King burst out laughing. "Very well," he said, "let the will of my +son be accomplished." Then he gave orders to equip 100 _prahos_, and +Toun Parapatih received the command to accompany the princess to the +country of Samoudra. + +Sultan Melik-es-Salih went to meet the princess as far as Djambou Ayer. +He introduced her into Samoudra with a thousand honors and splendors, +and married her. The marriage accomplished, the prince gave presents to +the ministers and to the officers, and showed himself lavish in gold +and silver to the poor of the country. As for Toun Parapatih Pendek, he +took leave to return to Perlak. Sultan Melik-es-Salih and the princess +Ganggang had two sons who received from the prince the names of Sultan +Melik-ed-Dhahir and Sultan Melik-el-Mansour. The elder was confided to +Sidi Ali Ghaiath-ed-Din and the other to Sidi Ali Asmai-ed-Din. Years +passed and the two young princes had grown up. Perlak had been +conquered by an enemy come from the opposite coast, and the inhabitants +of the country had migrated to Samoudra. Sultan Melik-es-Salih +conceived the plan of founding a city to establish his sons there. He +said to the great ones, "To-morrow I shall go hunting." The next +morning he set out, mounted on an elephant called Perma Diouana. He +passed to the other side of the water. When he came to land his dog Si +Pasey began to bark. The prince ran up and saw that he was barking +before a hillock, sufficiently extended for the erection of a palace +and its dependencies, level on top and well disposed. Sultan Melik had +the ground cleared and built a palace and a city there. After the name +of his dog he called the palace Pasey, and established as king his son +Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir, with Sidi Ali Ghaiath as minister. He divided +his men, his elephants, and his royal standards into two parts, one for +each of his sons. + +Some time after this, the prince, having fallen ill, commanded the +grandees to assemble and called his two sons and spoke as follows: "Oh, +my two sons, and you all, my companions, my last hour is approaching. +You men be good to those whom I leave behind. And you, my sons, beware +of being envious of another's good, and of the wives and daughters of +your subjects. Maintain between you the union of two brothers, abstain +from all injustice, and avoid between you every cause of quarrel." He +said also to Sidi Ali Gaiath-ed-Din and to Sidi Asmai-ed-Din: + +"Oh, my brothers, take care of these two sons. Stir not up trouble +between them. Be faithful to them and never give your allegiance to +another king." The two young princes bowed their heads and wept. + +As for the two ministers, "Lord," they said, "light of our eyes, we +swear by the sovereign Master who created the worlds that we will never +break our promises, that we will never lack in our fidelity or render +homage to another king than your two well-beloved sons." + +Then Sultan Melik-es-Salih named his son Melik-el-Mansour, King of +Samoudra. Three days later he died and was buried in the interior of +the palace. Their father dead, the two young princes, his sons, +commanded the royal herald to assemble the officers and soldiers, +elephants and horses, as well as the royal insignia of the country of +Pasey. And the two cities grew and flourished more and more. God knows +best the truth. He is our aid and our refuge. + +Now this is the story of the King Chehr-en-Naoui. His power was great, +his officers and soldiers innumerable. They told this prince that the +country of Samoudra had a large population, many merchants, and a +powerful king. Chehr-en-Naoui said to his officers: + +"Which of you would be able to take the King of Samoudra?" + +One of his officers very strong and brave, Aoui Ditchou, bowed and +said: "Lord, if your Majesty will give me 4,000 chosen warriors, I will +take the King of Samoudra alive and bring him to the foot of your +Majesty's throne." + +The King gave him the 4,000 warriors and 100 ships. When they were +ready Aoui Ditchou sailed toward Samoudra, feigning that the ships were +bent on commerce up to the very moment when they reached the end of the +voyage. Then he caused it to be said that he was an ambassador of the +King Chehr-en-Naoui, and the King of Samoudra sent some officers to +receive him. + +Landing, Aoui Ditchou put into four chests four lusty _houlou-balongs_, +to whom he said: "Presently, when you are in the presence of the King +of Samoudra, open the chests, leap out, and seize the King." The chests +were fastened from within. They took them ashore in state as presents +from the King Chehr-en-Naoui. When they were in the presence of the +prince, a message couched in flattering terms was read, and the chests +were brought in. Immediately the _houlou-balongs_ opened the chests, +sprang out, and seized the sovereign. The soldiers uttered fierce cries +and unsheathed their arms to attack the band of Chehr-en-Naoui's men. +But the latter cried: + +"If you fall upon us, we will kill your King." + +So the soldiers paused in their attack. Aoui Ditchou and his people +returned, bringing with them the King of Samoudra. They crossed the sea +and regained their own country. There the prisoner-King was conducted +by Aoui Ditchou before King Chehr-en-Naoui, who was very joyful and +loaded the head of the expedition and all his companions with honors. +As for the King of Samoudra, they made him a poultry-keeper. + +Now let us talk of Sidi Ali Gaiath-ed-Din. Having consulted with the +principal ministers in the country of Samoudra, he equipped a ship and +purchased a cargo of Arabic merchandise, for the inhabitants of Pasey +at that time all knew the Arabic language. Sidi Ali and the soldiers +whom he embarked on the ship with him took all the ways and manners of +the Arabs. The minister being on board and all being made ready, they +set sail for the country of Chehr-en-Naoui, where they arrived after a +short voyage. Sidi Ali landed and went to present himself to the King, +bearing as a gift a tree of gold, of which the fruits were all sorts of +precious stones, and which was worth an almost inconceivable sum. When +the prince saw this present he asked: + +"What do you want of me?" + +Sidi Ali replied, "We want nothing." + +The King was highly pleased, although surprised by such a magnificent +present. And he said to himself, "Now, what can be the aim of these +people giving me all this?" The pretended Arabs returned to their +ships. A few days after, the master of the ship returned to visit the +King. This time he brought as a present a chess-board of gold of which +the chessmen were of precious stones, which was worth an enormous sum. + +"What do you want of me?" again asked the prince. "Speak, that I may +satisfy you." + +And they replied, "We ask for nothing." + +Then they returned to the ship. Some time later, when the favorable +monsoon blew for their return homeward, Sidi Ali Ghaiath thought upon +his departure. He went to see the King, laden with a present which +consisted of two golden ducks, male and female, enriched with precious +stones, and in a big golden basin. He filled this golden basin with +water, put in the ducks. They began to swim, dive, and pursue each +other, a sight at which the King marvelled much. + +"I beg of you to tell me," he said, "what you desire of me. By the God +whom I worship, I swear to fulfil your wishes." + +Then Sidi Ali answered: "Lord, if it is the accomplishment of your +favor, we beg that you will give us your poultry-keeper." + +"It is the King of Pasey that you ask of me. But, very well, I grant +him to you." + +"It is because he is a Mussulman," said the strangers, "that we ask him +of your Majesty." + +The King Chehr-en-Naoui delivered therefore the Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir +to Sidi Ali Gaiath-ed-Din, who took him on board the ship, gave him a +bath, and then clothed him in royal raiment. The wind blew, they +weighed anchor, set sail, and after a certain time arrived at the +country of Samoudra. And God knows the truth. He is our aid and our +refuge. + +Now we are going to speak of the King Melik-el-Mansour at Samoudra. +This prince said one day to Sidi Ali Asmai-ed-Din: + +"I would like to go and see how my brother is getting along." + +The minister answered, "Do not go, my lord, for fear of misfortune." +And, indeed, he tried to restrain his master. The prince would listen +to nothing, and finally the minister was silent. He ordered the drums +to beat, in order to make the announcement, "Sultan Melik-el-Mansour is +going to see the country of his brother." + +Sidi Ali Asmai-ed-Din was not satisfied. He was an old minister who +knew that out of every affair causes of trouble may arise. But it was +his duty to obey. The prince started. He made the tour of the city of +Pasey, and then entered the palace of the Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir. There +he fell in love with one of the ladies-of-honor of his brother's court, +and a quarrel arose between the two brothers on her account. Sultan +Melik-ed-Dhahir felt in the bottom of his heart a violent irritation +toward his brother. + +Now he had a son named Radja Ahmed, very young when his father was +captured, but grown up when the prince was restored from the hands of +Chehr-en-Naoui. Sidi Ali Ghaiath-ed-Din having withdrawn from affairs, +a minister named Parapatih Toulous Toukang Sikari had replaced him in +his ministerial functions. One day the King said to the minister: + +"What is your opinion concerning the act of Sultan Melik-el-Mansour?" + +The minister answered: "We have a means----" + +"But," answered the King, "it might involve his death." + +"If he dies," replied the minister, "my name shall be no longer +Toukang." + +"Give a family fête for your son Sultan Ahmed. We will invite Sultan +Melik-el-Mansour to the festival." + +Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir gave orders then to decorate the city and made +preparations for the fete, and sent to find Sultan Melik-el-Mansour. +This prince was with Sidi Ali Asmai-ed-Din and his officers. They +introduced the prince and his minister, but left the officers outside. +When they had entered, Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir caused them both to be +seized and ordered one of his officers to conduct his brother to +Mandjang. "As for you," he said to Sidi Ali, "stay here. Do not try to +go with your master or I'll cut off your head." + +Sidi Ali answered: "Rather let my head be separated from my body than +that the servant should be separated from his master." + +So the King had his head cut off. The head was thrown into the sea and +the body impaled at the entrance to the Bay of Pasey. While they were +taking the Sultan Melik-el-Mansour toward the east in a _prabo_, at the +moment when they arrived near Djambou Ayer, the pilot saw a human head +floating in the water near the rudder. He recognized the head of Sidi +Ali. Informed of this event, Sultan Melik-el-Mansour caused the head to +be taken from the water. It was indeed that of his minister. Casting +his glances toward the land: "Behold," he said, "the Plain of +Illusions." And it bears that name, "Padang-Maya," to this day. The +prince sent to his brother and demanded the body of Sidi Ali; joined +the head with the body, and buried both in the Plain of Illusion. Then +he went back to Mandjang. + +After the departure of the Sultan Melik-el-Mansour, King Melik-ed- +Dhahir had the family festival. The Sultan Melik-el-Mansour had been at +Mandjang three years when the Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir bethought him of +his brother. + +"Alas," he said, "I was truly too unwise. For a woman my brother +dethroned, and his minister is dead." + +And the prince repented. He ordered some of his officers to go and find +his brother at Mandjang. They therefore brought back Sultan Melik-el- +Mansour with the regard due to a king. When they arrived near the Plain +of Maya, the prince landed to visit the tomb of Sidi Ali Asmai-ed-Din. +"I salute you, my father," he said. "Stay here, my father. As for me I +go away, called by my brother." + +From the interior of the tomb Sidi Ali answered: "Where would the +prince go? It is better to remain here." + +When the prince heard these words, he made his ablutions, said a couple +of prayers, then stretched himself upon the tomb and expired. They bore +to Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir the news that his brother was dead, in the +Plain of Maya, in the tomb of Sidi Ali Asmai-ed-Din. He started at +once, went to the place, and had his brother, Sultan Melik-el-Mansour, +buried with the ceremonies of great kings. Then, after returning to +Pasey, a prey to grief, he abdicated the throne in favor of his son, +Sultan Ahmed. + +Some time after this, Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir fell ill. He gave Sultan +Ahmed his last instructions. "O my son," said he, "light of my eyes, +treasure of my heart, never neglect the advice of your old servitors. +In every affair take counsel with your ministers. Neglect not the +duties of piety to God, the sovereign Master. Beware of injustice to +men." + +Sultan Ahmed heard in tears the last words of his father. The prince +died, and they buried him near the mosque. + +Sultan Ahmed was for many years on the throne and governed with much +justice. Now, the author of this story says: "There was at Pasey a +servant of God named Toun Djana Khatite. This man made the voyage to +Singapore with two companions. Crossing the square of Singapore he +passed by the palace of the King and saw the Queen. Near the palace was +an areca tree, and while Toun Djana was looking at the Queen the tree +split in two. At sight of this, King Sri Maharadja was extremely +irritated. 'You see,' he cried, 'the conduct of Toun Djana Khatite. To +call the attention of the Queen, he has acted thus. And he ordered him +to be killed. So Toun Djana was led to the place of punishment, near a +cake-shop, where Toun Djana Khatite received the blow of the poniard; +his blood ran on the earth, but his body disappeared and no one could +ever tell what became of it. The cake-shop-keeper covered the blood +with the cake-cover, and the cake-cover was changed into stone, which +is still seen at Singapore. According to a tradition, the body of Toun +Djana Khatite was transported to Langkaoui and there buried." + +Some time later came the sea-monsters called _toudaks_ and attacked +Singapore. They leaped upon the shore, and people who were there died +in great numbers, overtaken by these _toudaks_. If they struck a man on +the breast, they pierced to his back. If they struck the neck or the +loins, they pierced clear through from one side to the other. There +were many killed. People ran about crying: + +"The _toudaks_ are attacking us!" + +"What shall we do?" + +"How many dead? We shall all perish!" + +Padouka Sri Maharadja in great haste mounts the elephant and goes +forth, followed by his ministers, his body-guards, and all his +officers. Arriving at the seashore he sees with horror the work of +these monsters, the _toudaks_. Whoever was wounded by them inevitably +perished. The number of the victims became larger and larger. The +prince ordered the men to make a rampart of their legs, but in their +boundings the _toudaks_ succeeded in passing this barrier. They came +like the rain, and the slaughter was terrible. While this was happening +a young boy said: + +"Why make thus a rampart of our legs? That is an artifice very much to +our hurt. If we should make a rampart of the trunks of banana-trees, +would not that be better?" + +When Padouka Sri Maharadja heard the words of the child, "He is right," +he said. And on his orders they hastened to construct a barrier of +banana-tree trunks. When the _toudaks_ came bounding along their snouts +were buried in the tree-trunks, and the men ran up and killed them. +There perished thus of these _toudaks_ a number beyond computation. +Their bodies formed heaps on the shore, and all the population of +Singapore did not suffice to eat them. And the _toudaks_ ceased their +leapings. They say, by the force of their boundings the _toudaks_ +reached the elephant of the prince and tore the sleeve of his cloak. +About this they made a song: + + "The boundings of the _toudaks_ tore + The mantle which the Sultan wore, + But here they ceased their onset wild, + Thanks to the wisdom of a child." + +While Padouka Sri Maharadja was returning, the grandees said to him: +"Lord, this child, though so young, has much wit. What will it be when +he has grown up? You had better get rid of him." That is why they found +it just that the King should give the order for him to be killed. + +After they had caused this young boy to perish, it seems that the city +of Singapore felt the weight of his blood. + +Padouka Sri Maharadja reigned some time still and then died. He had as +successor his son Padja Is Keuder Chah, who married the daughter of +Toun Parapatih Toulous, and by her had a son named Radja Ahmed Timang- +timanganga Radja Besar Mouda. This young prince was handsome and well +formed, without equal in those days. When he was of age his father +married him to the daughter of the King Salamiam, King of Kota- +Mahlikie, who was named Kamar-al-Adjaaib, a princess of unrivalled +beauty. King Is Keuder Chah had a _bendahari_, or major-domo, named +Lang Radjouna Tapa, of the race of ancient inhabitants of Singapore, +father of a very beautiful girl in the court of the King. The other +court ladies calumniated this young woman, and the King in a rage +ordered her to be impaled in the corner of the marketplace. + +Lang Radjouna Tapa was extremely wounded by the treatment of his +daughter. "If in truth my daughter had offended," said he, "you might +have simply had her killed. But why dishonor us thus?" On this he wrote +a letter to Java saying, "If the Batara of Madjapahit wishes to attack +Singapore let him come at once, for I will give him entrance into the +fortifications." + +When the Batara of Madjapahit had read this letter he caused to be +equipped 300 junks and a great quantity of other boats. A hundred +thousand Javanese embarked, crossed the sea, and attacked Singapore. At +the end of several days King Is Keuder commanded his major-domo to +carry rice for the rations of the troops. Lang Radjouna Tapa answered, +"There is no more, my Lord." For he wished to betray him. At daybreak +he opened the gates of the fortifications and the Javanese entered. +Inside the town there was a frantic combat. So many people were killed +on each side that blood flowed like water. From this came the marks of +blood which are seen to this day in the Plain of Singapore. The natives +ceased their struggle and King Is Keuder escaped, descending from +Salitar to the Moara coast. By the will of God, the house of Lang +Radjouna Tapa was overturned, the storehouse for rice fell to pieces, +and the rice was changed to earth. The _bendahari_ himself and his wife +were changed to stone, and these stones are still found in the ditch at +Singapore. After this victory the Javanese returned to Madjapahit. + +On arriving at Moara, King Is Keuder halted at nightfall. Now there +came a multitude of iguanas, and, when day dawned they saw them +gathered in a crowd near the halting-place. They killed them and threw +their bodies into the river. But at night, iguanas again came in mass. +The next morning the Singaporeans killed them, but that night as many +more arrived. So that the place became putrid from the multitude of +their bodies. The quarter is still called Biaoak Bousok, or "Putrid +Iguanas." + +King Is Keuder Chah set out and came to another place, where he built a +fort. But all they constructed by day was overturned by night. And the +place still bears the name of Kota-Bourok, or "Ruined Fort." + +Starting from there the King advanced into the interior during many +days and came to the Saning Oudjong. He found this place agreeable and +left a minister there. Hence comes it that to this day Saning Oudjong +is the residence of a minister. Then the King returned toward the coast +near a river at the shore of the sea. The river was called Bartain. Is +Keuder Chah halted at the foot of a very bushy tree. Then he began +hunting. His dog, chasing some game, was struck by the foot of a little +white gazelle and fell into the water. On this the prince cried: + +"Here is a good place to build a city, for even the little gazelles are +valiant here." + +And all the grandees said, "His Majesty is right." The King therefore +gave orders for the construction of a city at this place. He asked, +"What is the name of this tree against which I have been leaning?" + +Someone answered, "It is a malaka-tree." "Very well," said he, "let +Malaka be the name of the city." + +The prince established himself at Malaka. He had lived thirty-two years +at Singapore, up to the capture of that town by the Javanese. He lived +for three years more at Malaka, and then died, by the vicissitudes of +this world, and had as successor his son Radja Besar Mouda. + +This prince governed with justice. He regulated the etiquette of the +court. He first established a ministry of ceremonies to direct people +who came to Balerong, and forty heralds who stood below the throne +ready to take the orders of the King and carry to him the words of the +public. He instituted among the sons of the grandees a body of pages +serving as royal messengers and bearing everywhere the royal equipage. + +This prince had three sons, Radeu Bagousa, Radeu Tengah, and Radeu +Anoumah, who all married daughters of Bauhara Toun Parapatih Toulous. +At his death, Radeu Bagousa took his functions with the title of Toun +Parapatih Permouka Berdjadjar. + +When, by the vicissitudes of the world, King Besar Mouda died, his son +Radeu Tengah succeeded him. The latter had a son called Radja Kitchil +Bessar, who at his death was his successor. He was just and guarded the +interests of his subjects. No one in his time among the kings of the +world equalled him in liberality. And the city of Malaka became large, +well peopled, and the meeting-place of merchants. This King married a +daughter of Toun Parapatih Permouka Berdjadjar, and by her had two +sons, Radja Kitchil Mainbang and Radja Makat. He reigned for a certain +time, when one night he dreamed that he was in the presence of the +glorious prophet of God, on whom be blessings! And the prophet said to +him, "Recite the words of the creed." And Radja Kitchil Bessar did as +the prophet commanded. + +"Your name shall be Sultan Mahomet," said the prophet. "To-morrow at +the moment of the Asr (in the afternoon) there will arrive a ship from +Djedda, from which the men will descend to pray on the shore of Malaka. +Follow all their orders." + +"Yes, Lord," replied the prince, "I shall obey your word." + +And the prophet disappeared. When day came the King awaked. He +perceived upon his body the odor of spikenard and saw that he bore +certain marks. "It is clear," he thought, "that my dream does not come +from Satan." And he began to recite without relaxation the words of the +creed. + +The ladies-of-honor who were in the palace were very much surprised to +hear the King speak thus. "Has the King been touched by Satan, or has +he lost his wits? Let us hasten to inform the _bendahari_." They ran to +tell the _bendahari,_ who came at once, entered the palace, and saw the +King repeating without cessation the words of the creed. + +"What is this language in which the King is speaking?" said the +minister. + +"Last night," said the King, "I dreamed that I was in the presence of +the glorious prophet." And he told his dream to the _bendahari_. + +"If your dream is not an illusion," said the latter, "what is the +sign?" + +"Here is the sign that proves that I have really seen in a dream the +prophet of God. Furthermore, the prophet told me: 'To-day, at Asr, +there will arrive a ship from Djedda, from which the people will +descend to say their prayers on the shore of Malaka. Follow their +directions.'" + +The _bendahari_ was surprised at seeing the marks on the King. + +"Truly," he said, "if a ship arrives at the hour stated, then your +dream is a reality. If it does not arrive, we shall judge that Satan +must have troubled your spirit." + +The King replied, "My father is right." And the _bendahari_ returned to +his house. + +Now at the hour of Asr there arrived a ship from Djedda which cast +anchor. The master came on shore. He was called Sidi Abd-el-Aziz. He +said his prayers on the shore of Malaka. The inhabitants, astonished at +the sight, said: + +"Why does he stoop so and prostrate himself so?" + +And to see him better, the people pressed around, leaving no spot +vacant, and making a great tumult. + +The noise reached the palace, and the King mounted an elephant and came +in haste, accompanied by his grandees. He saw the master making all the +ceremonies of his prayer, and all was in evident accord with the dream. + +"It is exactly as in my dream," he exclaimed to the _bendahari_ and the +grandees. + +When the master had finished praying, the King made his elephant stoop, +and took up the master with him and carried him to the palace. The +_bendahari_ and the grandees all became Mussulmans, and by command of +the King so did all the population, men and women, great and small, +young and old. The master taught the King the ceremonies of prayer, and +gave him the name of Sultan Mahomet Chah. The _bendahari_ received the +title of Sri Ouak Radja; that is to say, "Paternal Uncle of the King," +which he was in fact. And that is the first title of the _bendahari_. + +Sultan Mahomet regulated the ceremonial customs of the court. He was +the first to prohibit yellow for the clothes of the person strange to +the court, for handkerchiefs, borders of curtains, pillow-cases, +mattresses, coverings of all kinds, ornaments of every nature, as well +as for the decoration of houses. + +Furthermore the use of only three kinds of garments was permitted--the +_kain_, the _badjoa_, and the _destar_. It was also forbidden to +construct houses with projections sustained upon pillars not touching +the ground, or with pillars extending beyond the roof or with +observatories. The _prahos_ could have no windows in front. It was +forbidden to carry clasps or ornaments of gold on the _kris_. No one +strange to the court could have gold rings nor pins nor jingling +bangles of gold and silver. Nobody without the royal consent had the +right to wear on his clothes gilding of any sort; but the authorization +once granted, one might wear it indefinitely. When a man presented +himself at the palace, if he had a vesture falling beneath the girdle, +if his _kris_ was not attached in front, if he was not clad in a +_sabec_, he was not admitted, whatever might be his distinction. If +anyone entered with his _kris_ attached behind, the officer took it +away from him. + +Such were formerly the prohibitions of the Malay kings. Whoever +transgressed was guilty of _lese-majeste_ and was condemned to pay a +fine of one to five katis. White parasols were held in higher esteem +than yellow ones, because they could be seen at a greater distance. +That is why they were ranked higher; the first were for the King and +the second for the princes. The objects of the king's private use, such +as the spittoon, the ewer for his ablutions, the fan, and other like +objects, had no fixed place, except the betel-tray and the sword, which +they kept at the right and left of the sovereign. At the arrival and +departure of an ambassador, the servitors of the King brought from the +palace dishes and basins which were received by the head of the +_bataras_ and deposited near the _bendahari_. They gave a dish and a +scarf to the bearer of the letter. If the missive came from Pasey or +from Harau, it was received with all the royal pomp--drum, flute, +trumpet, kettledrum, and two white parasols together; but the bugle did +not figure at this reception. The ministers preceded the elephant +bearing the message, the bataras followed it with the _sida-sida_. The +letter was borne by the chief of the _bedaouenda_, and they placed the +elephant at the extremity of the _balei_. For the kings of these two +countries were equal in greatness to the King of Malaka. Younger or +older, all gave the salaam. + +Having reached the audience-chamber, the letter was received by the +chief of heralds of the right, the one of the left being charged with +transmitting the words of the King to the ambassador, and the herald of +the right transmitted the answer. If the message came from another +country than Pasey and Harau, they suppressed part of the men. The +_cortege_ included only the drum, the flute, and a yellow parasol. They +took, as was suitable, now an elephant, now a horse, and they halted +outside the first exterior gate. When the message came from a more +considerable sovereign, they employed the flute and two parasols, one +white and one yellow. The elephant passed through the exterior gate, +for formerly the royal entrance included seven fortifications. At his +departure, the ambassador received a complete investiture, even were he +only a simple ambassador of Rakan. The same gift was offered to our own +ambassadors at the moment of their departure. + +When the King conferred a title, he gave audience in the _falerong_, +with the following procedure: According to the rank, the person to be +honored was brought on an elephant, on horseback, or simply on foot, +with parasol, drum, and flute. There were green, blue, and red +parasols. The noblest were the yellow and the white, which with the +kettle-drums represented the height of distinction. The yellow with the +trumpet was also very distinguished; they were the parasols of the +princes and greatest personages. The violet, red, and green parasols +were those of the _sida-sida_, of the _bataras_, and of the _houlou +balongs_. The blue and black ones served for any other person summoned +to receive a title. When the personage arrived at the palace, he was +detained without. Then they read before the King a very fine piece. It +was a descendant of Batl that held this office. The piece read, they +took it out. He who received it was of the family of the candidate for +honors. With this piece they brought a _tetampan_ scarf with which the +reader invested the candidate, whom he then introduced into the +audience-chamber. There a mat was stretched for him to sit upon in +whatever place the King designated. + +Then arrived the vestments. For a personage promoted to the ranks of +the _bendahari_ there were five trays. The sons of radjas and the grand +officers had four trays only, and so on down through the various ranks. +The servitors of the King charged with this duty approached the +beneficiary and placed the vestments upon his shoulders. He crossed his +arms, to hold the vestments in place, and they took him outside. The +etiquette in that was the same for ambassadors awarded an investiture, +each according to the rights of his rank. The beneficiary dressed +himself outside and then re-entered. They decorated him with a frontlet +and with bracelets, for every man who received a title wore bracelets, +each according to his dignity. Some had bracelets in the form of a +dragon with amulets, others had bracelets of precious stones, others of +blue enamel, others of silver. These wore them on both wrists, those on +only one. The beneficiary thus decorated went and bowed before the +King. Then he returned accompanied according to his rank, or by the +person who introduced him. The _cortège_ included now a drum and a +flute alone, now trumpets or kettledrums, sometimes a white parasol; +but the white parasol was a rare honor, as well as the kettle-drums, +for the yellow parasol and the trumpet were very hard to obtain in +those times. + +On festival days, when the King went forth in a palanquin, he was +surrounded by high officers of state. At the head, before the +sovereign, marched the _bataras_ and the _houlou balongs_, each +following their charge. Footmen, also before the King, bore the royal +insignia. The royal pikes were at the right and left; the _bataras_ had +sword at shoulder. Before them marched the lancers. When the King gives +a festival it is the _panghoulou bendahari_ who arranges everything +inside the palace, stretches mats, decorates the _balerong_, and places +the _bangings_ on the ceilings. It is he who looks after the repasts +and sends the invitations; for the servitors of the King, his +_bendahari_, his tax-gatherers, and the receiver of the port all depend +on the administration of the _panghoulou bendahari_. He invites the +guests and the _temonggoreg_ seats them. In the hall the guests eat +four at a dish, to the end of the platform. If any one of the various +fours are lacking the others eat without him, by threes or by twos or +even one alone. For it is not permitted for those below to ascend to +make up the number. The _bendahari_ eats alone or from the same dish as +the princes. + +Such was in former days the etiquette of Malaka. There were many other +regulations, but to relate them all would weary the attentions of my +readers. At the month of Ramadhau, at the twenty-seventh night, while +it was still light, they went in state to make adorations to the +mosque. The _Temonggoreg_ was at the head of the elephant. They first +took in state to the mosque the betel-tray, the royal insignia, and the +drum. When night came, the King started for the mosque, following the +ceremonial of festival days, made the prayer of perfumes, and returned. + +The next day the _laksamana_ carried in state the turban, for the Malay +kings were accustomed to go to the mosque in a turban, a _badjon_, and +a _sarong_. These vestments were forbidden at weddings except by +express permission. It was also forbidden to dress in the Hindoo +fashion. Only those persons who had worn this costume for a long time +were allowed to wear it at prayers and at weddings. Festival days, +great or small, the _bendahari_ and the grandees assembled at the +palace, and the _panghoulou bendahari_ brought in pomp the palanquin. +As soon as they saw it appear, the persons seated in the _balei_ +descended and stood about. Seven times they beat upon the drum, and +each time the trumpet sounded. After the seventh, the King set out on +an elephant and came to the platform erected for that purpose, which he +mounted. At sight of him, all those present bowed to the earth, except +the _bendahari_, who mounted the platform to receive him. The palanquin +having approached, the King placed himself in it, and they started for +the mosque according to the ceremonial above mentioned. + +Such was formerly the etiquette of the Malay kings. Such I learned it, +such I tell it. If I commit any error, I desire to be convicted by +anyone who has given attention to this story, and implore the +indulgence of the reader. + + + + +THE PRINCESS DJOUHER-MANIKAM + +[_Translated by Aristide Marre and Chauncey C. Starkweather_] + + +This is the history of the Princess Djouher-Manikam, whose renown is +celebrated in all lands, windward and leeward. + +There was in the city of Bagdad a king named Haroun-er-Raschid, +sovereign of a vast empire. He was a prince who feared God the +almighty, and worthy of all praise, for he was a king descended from +the prophet. After having lived for some time in his kingdom, he +desired to start on a pilgrimage. So he addressed his ministers and his +military chiefs and spoke to them as follows: + +"O you all, my subjects, my officers, what is your opinion? I would +fain make a pilgrimage to the house of God." + +The cadi, prostrating himself, answered: "Sire, King of the world, the +will of your sublime Majesty is very just, but in my opinion your +departure would cause the ruin of the inhabitants of the fields, and +those of your subjects who accompany you will have much to suffer." + +The prince, having heard these words, said: "The opinion of the cadi is +loyal, and you, my officers, tell what is your advice." + +The officers arose, then they prostrated themselves and spoke as +follows: "Sire, King of the world, we, your servants, beg you a +thousand and a thousand times to cause your forgiveness to descend upon +our heads, but how will your Majesty accomplish the pilgrimage? In whom +can you trust to protect the country and watch over the palace?" + +The prince having heard these words of his officers, none of whom +approved of the pilgrimage, kept silence and restrained his anger, and +then departed and returned to the palace. Some days after this, by the +will of the most high God, the heart of the prince felt more keenly +still the desire to make the pilgrimage. He gave orders to gather +together the interpreters of the law, the wise men, and the _muftis_, +as well as the officers. When they were all assembled, the prince went +to the audience-chamber, and there before the officers of the court he +questioned one of the doctors. It was the _mufti_ of the city of +Bagdad. He, prostrating himself, said: "The pilgrimage of his Majesty +would be an excellent work, but is it of absolute necessity? For the +voyage will be very long, and there is no one, my lord, who would be +capable of ruling in the place of your sublime Majesty." + +The prince answered: "He in whom we first of all place our trust is +God. We shall hope then in the blessing of his envoy. We shall leave +the cadi here, and if it pleases God the most high, we shall return +promptly as soon as we have accomplished the pilgrimage." + +The King therefore caused to be equipped and provided with all sorts of +provisions, those of his subjects who were going to accompany him, and +when, the favorable moment had arrived he started with the Queen, some +of the maids-of-honor, and his son named Minbah Chahaz. He took his +son, but he left behind, guarded in the palace, his daughter called the +Princess Djouher-Manikam. In those times there was no one in the +country of Bagdad who surpassed in beauty the Princess Djouher-Manikam. +Furthermore, she had in her heart the fear of God the most high and +worthy of all praise, and would not cease her prayers. + +After travelling for some time, the prince her father arrived at Mecca, +and fulfilled his duties as a pilgrim. He recited the appropriate +prayers. But observing that there was still a great quantity of +provisions, the prince said to his officers: + +"It is good for us to wait a year or so, for our provisions are yet +considerable." + +The officers replied: "It is well, lord of the world! Whatever may be +your Majesty's commands, we place them above our heads." "Since it is +thus," answered the prince, "it is fitting that we should send a letter +thus conceived: Peace and blessing upon the cadi: I place my trust in +God first of all, and in the cadi, to guard my kingdom, palace, and my +child the Princess Djouher-Manikam. Be a faithful guardian, neglect +nothing in the cares to be given to my kingdom, for I am going to +remain another year for the great pilgrimage.'" + +The prince's letter reached the cadi. The latter gave all his efforts +to the good administration of the country, and, according to the words +of the prince, he avoided every negligence. + +But one night while he was on watch near the fortifications of the +King's palace, Satan came to him and slid into his heart a temptation. +The cadi thought in his heart: "The King's daughter is of a marvellous +beauty; her name, Djouher-Mani-kam, is charming; and her face is +lovely. Since it is thus, I must marry this daughter of the King." The +cadi called the man who was guarding the gate, exclaiming: + +"Ho! Guardian of the gate! Open unto me." + +The guardian of the gate demanded, "Who is there?" + +The cadi replied, "It is I, the cadi." + +So the guardian promptly opened the gate, and the cadi entered within +the fortification, then went up into the palace and found the princess +there saying her evening prayers. He hid behind the lamp in a corner +which was dark. When her prayer was finished, the Princess Djouher- +Manikam cast her eyes in that direction and saw there was someone +standing there in the shadow, so three times again she said the "verse +of the Throne"; but she saw that the vision had not yet vanished from +her eyes. + +Then the princess said in her heart: "What in the world is that? Is it +a ghost? Is it a demon? Is it a djinn? If it were, it would have +necessarily disappeared when I recited the 'verse of the Throne.'" + +The cadi heard these words and said: "O Princess Djouher-Manikam, it is +I, the cadi." + +"What are you doing here?" asked the princess. He answered, "I wish to +marry you." + +The Princess Djouher-Manikam said: "O cadi! Why do you act so to me? +Have you then no fear of God the most high and worthy of all praise? Do +you not blush before the face of my ancestor the prophet Mahomet, the +envoy of God? May the peace and blessings of God be upon him! As for +me, I am the servant of the Lord and I belong to the religion of the +envoy of God. I fear to marry now. And you, cadi, why do you act so? My +father gave you a charge. He sent you a letter which commanded you to +protect the country and all who dwelt in his palace. Why do you conduct +yourself in this fashion toward me?" + +The cadi, hearing these words of the Princess Djouher-Manikam, felt a +great confusion in his heart. He went out of the palace and returned +home full of trouble and emotion. When it was day, the cadi sent a +letter to the King Haroun-er-Raschid at Mecca. It was thus conceived: +"Your Majesty left me to be guardian of his kingdom, his palace, and +his daughter. Now, the Princess Djouher-Manikam desires to marry me. +This is the reason why I send this letter to your Majesty." Thus spake +the cadi in his letter. + +When it reached the prince and he had read it, he immediately summoned +his son Minbah-Chahaz. He came in haste, and the King gave him a +cutlass and said, "Return to Bagdad and slay your sister, because she +will bring shame upon the family by marrying now." + +Minbah-Chahaz bowed before his father. Then he set out to return to his +own country. + +Arriving at the end of his journey, he entered the city, and went up to +the palace of the Princess Djouher-Manikam. She was filled with joy and +said, "Welcome, O my brother!" + +Minbah-Chahaz answered, "O my little sister, our parents will remain +for the great pilgrimage." + +The brother and sister thus chatting together, the Princess Djouher- +Manikam said, "O my brother, I wish to sleep." + +"It is well, my sister," answered Minbah-Chahaz; "sleep while your +brother combs his little sister's hair." And the princess Djouher- +Manikam slept. + +Her brother then took a cushion, which he slipped under the head of the +young virgin his sister; then he thought in his heart: "If I do not +execute the commands of my father, I shall be a traitor to him. But, +alas, if I kill my sister, I shall not have a sister any more. If I do +not kill her, I shall certainly commit a crime against the most high, +because I shall not have obeyed the order of my father. I will fulfil +then my father's will. It is a duty obligatory on all children. What +good are these subterfuges?" His resolution thus confirmed, he bound +his handkerchief over his eyes and directed his cutlass against his +sister's neck. But at that instant, by the will of God the most high, a +little gazelle came up and, by the power of God the most high, placed +its neck upon the neck of the princess Djouher-Manikam, saying, "I will +take the place of the princess Djouher-Manikam." And the little gazelle +was killed by Minbah-Chahaz. That done he unbound his eyes and saw a +little gazelle lying dead with its throat cut, by the side of his young +sister the princess Djouher-Manikam. + +At this sight, Minbah-Chahaz was stricken with astonishment. He thought +in his heart: "Since it is so with my sister, she must be entirely +innocent, and cannot have commited the least fault. Nevertheless, +although I am confident that she was calumniated by the cadi I must +tell my father that I have killed her." + +Minbah-Chahaz set out then for Mecca, to find the prince his father. +When he had arrived at Mecca he presented to his father the cutlass +still stained with blood. The King Haroun-er-Raschid cried, "Praise be +to God, the Lord of the worlds. Our shame is now effaced, since you +have poniarded your sister and she is dead." Such were the deeds of +this first story. + +The princess Djouher-Manikam, having awakened after the departure of +Minbah-Chahaz, saw that her brother was no longer there, but that at +her side there was a little gazelle with its throat cut. She thought in +her heart: "The cadi has slandered me to my father, and that is why my +brother came here with orders to kill me." The princess Djouher-Manikam +felt a great shame and thought in her heart, "Since it is so, I must +retire to a hidden place." Now in the King's park there was a solitary +place in the midst of a vast deserted plain. There was a pond of very +agreeable appearance there, many kinds of fruit-trees and flowers, and +an oratory beautifully built. The princess Djouher-Manikam set out and +retired to this place to pray to God the most high and worthy of all +praise. She was established there for some time when, by the will of +God the most high, a certain thing happened. + + + +SECOND STORY + + +There was in the country of Damas a king who was named Radja Chah +Djouhou. This King wished to go hunting in the deserted forests. His +first minister said to him, bowing low: "O my lord, King of the world, +why does your Majesty wish to go hunting in foreign countries?" + +King Chah Djouhou replied: "I insist upon my plan of going to hunt in +foreign lands, in forests far removed from ours. I wish to go from +place to place, from plain to plain. Such is my will." The prince set +out therefore accompanied by his ministers, his chiefs, and his +servants. + +They had all been hunting for some time and had not yet found a single +bit of game. The prince had directed his march toward the forests of +the country of Bagdad. These forests were of immense extent. The heat +was excessive, and the prince, being very thirsty, wanted a drink of +water. The people who generally carried water for the King said to him: +"O lord, sovereign of the world, your Majesty's provision of water is +entirely exhausted." + +The prince then asked of his officers and servants: "Which of you can +get me water? I will reward him with riches and with slaves." + +These words were heard by one of his officers named Asraf-el-Kaum. He +said: "O my lord, sovereign of the world, give me the vase which will +serve for water, and I will go and seek water for your Majesty." + +Then the prince said to the people who had brought water for his use, +"Give my emerald pitcher into the hands of Asraf-el-Kaum." + +The latter bowed low and started to seek water. Seeing from afar a very +large fig-tree, he advanced in that direction. Arriving near the tree +he saw at its base an oratory and a pond. At the oratory there was a +woman of very great beauty. The splendor of her countenance shone like +that of the full moon at its fourteenth day. Asraf-el-Kaum, astonished +and moved with admiration, thought in his heart: "Is this a human +creature, or is it a peri?" and Asraf-el-Kaum saluted the princess +Djouher-Manikam, who returned the salutation. + +Then the princess asked him, "What is your desire in coming here to my +dwelling?" + +Asraf-el-Kaum answered, "I have come here to ask you for water, for I +have lost my way." + +The princess said, "Take water, lord." + +Asraf-el-Kaum plunged the emerald pitcher into the pond, and filled it +with water. Then he asked permission to return. + +Arriving near the King Chah Djouhou he presented the pitcher to the +prince, who seized it quickly and drank. + +"Asraf-el-Kaum," said the prince, "where did you find such fresh and +delicious water? In all my life I have never drunk the like." + +Asraf-el-Kaum answered: "O my lord, sovereign of the world, there is a +garden in the middle of the plain, and in this garden there is a very +large and bushy fig-tree, and at the foot of this tree there is a pond, +and near this pond there is an oratory. At this oratory there was a +woman who was reading the Koran. This charmingly beautiful woman has no +equal in this world. I saluted her and then returned to the presence of +the sovereign of the world. That is what I saw, my lord." + +"Conduct me to this place," said the King. + +"O sovereign of the world, if your Majesty wishes to go thither, let it +be with me alone. Let not my lord take his people with him, for it is a +woman, and naturally she would be ashamed." + +The prince set out then on horseback with Asraf-el-Kaum. The princess +Djouher-Manikam, seeing two cavaliers approach, thought in her heart: +"I must hide myself, so that I may not be seen." So she left the +oratory and went toward the fig-tree. She addressed a prayer to God the +most high and worthy of all praise, in these terms: + +"O God, I beseech thee, give me a refuge in this tree, for thy servant, +O Lord, is ashamed to look upon the faces of these infidels." + +Then by the will of God the most high, the tree opened in two and the +princess Djouher-Manikam entered by the split, and the tree closed and +became as it was before. The King Chah Djouhou and Asraf-el-Kaum +arrived at the oratory, but the prince saw nothing of the princess +Djouher-Manikam. He was astonished and said: + +"O Asraf-el-Kaum, the woman has gone. But just a moment ago I saw her +from afar, seated at the oratory, and now she has suddenly +disappeared." The prince added: "O Asraf-el-Kaum, perhaps, as with the +prophet Zachariah (upon whom be blessings!), her prayer has been +answered and she has entered this tree." + +Then he offered this prayer to God the most high and worthy, of all +praise: "O God, if thou wilt permit that this woman be united to thy +servant, then grant her to him." + +The prayer of the King Chah Djouhou was heard, and a woman of dazzling +beauty appeared before his eyes. He desired to seize her, but the +princess Djouher-Manikam pronounced these words: "Beware of touching +me, for I am a true believer." Hearing these words the King Chah +Djouhou drew back, a little ashamed. Then he said: + +"Woman, what is your country? Whose child are you, and what is your +name?" + +The princess answered: "For a long time I have dwelt here, and I have +no father nor mother. My name is Djouher-Manikam." + +The King, hearing these words of the princess Djouher-Manikam, took off +his cloak and gave it to the princess, who covered all her body with +it. Then she got up and descended to the ground. Then King Chah +Djouhou, dismounting from his horse, received her, put her on his +horse, and took her to the country of Damas. + +Asraf-el-Kaum then said to the King: "O my lord, sovereign of the +world, you made a promise to your servant. Be not careless nor +forgetful, my lord." + +"Asraf-el-Kaum, be not disturbed. I will fulfil my promise to you. If +it pleases God, when I have arrived in our own country, I shall +certainly give you all that I promised you." + +King Chah Djouhou set out for the country of Damas. + +After a certain time on the way, the prince came to the city of Damas +and entered his palace. He commanded one of his pages to summon the +cadi, and a page went promptly to call him. The latter, in all haste, +entered the presence of the King. Chah Djouhou said: "O cadi, marry me +to the princess Djouher-Manikam." And the cadi married them. After the +celebration of the marriage the prince Chah Djouhou gave to Asraf-el- +Kaum 1,000 dinars and some of his slaves, both men and women. King +Djouhou and Princess Djouher-Manikam were happy and full of tenderness +for each other. Within a few years the princess had two sons, both very +beautiful. The prince loved these children very fondly. But above all +he loved his wife. He was full of tender solicitude for her, and bore +himself with regard to her with the same careful attention that a man +uses who carries oil in the hollow of his hand. Some time later +Princess Djouher-Manikam had another son of great beauty. The prince +loved this third child tenderly. He gave him a great number of nurses +and governesses, as is the custom for the children of the greatest +kings. And he never ceased to bestow upon him the most watchful care. + +It happened one day that the ministers, the chiefs, and the courtiers +of the King, all gathered in his presence, were enjoying all sorts of +sport and amusements. The prince showed himself very joyous, and the +princess herself played and amused herself with the three children. Her +countenance shone with the brightness of rubies; but happening to think +of her father, her mother, and her brother, she began to weep and said: +"Alas, how unhappy I am! If my father, mother, and brother could see my +three children, necessarily their affection for me would be greater." +And the princess Djouher-Manikam burst into sobs. The prince, who was +not far from there, heard her, and as the princess did not stop weeping +he asked her: "O princess, why do you weep thus? What do I lack in your +eyes? Is it riches or physical beauty or noble birth? Or is it the +spirit of justice? Tell me what is the cause of your tears?" + +Princess Djouher-Manikam answered: "Sovereign of the world, your Majesty +has not a single fault. Your riches equal those of Haroun. Your beauty +equals that of the prophet Joseph (peace be upon him!). Your extraction +equals that of the envoy of God (Mahomet). May the benediction of God +and blessings rest upon him! Your justice equals that of King +Rouchirouan. I don't see a single fault in you, my lord." + +King Chah Djouhou said: "If it is thus, why then does my princess shed +tears?" + +Princess Djouher-Manikam answered: "If I wept thus while playing with +my three children, it is because I thought that if my father, my +mother, and my brother should see my three children, necessarily their +affection for me would be greater. And that is why I shed tears." + +King Chah Djouhou said to her: "O my young wife, dear princess, are +your father and mother still living? What is your father's name?" + +Princess Djouher-Manikam answered, "O my lord, my father is named +Haroun-er-Raschid, King of Bagdad." + +Clasping her in his arms and kissing her, the prince asked her: "Why, +until this day have you not told the truth to your husband?" + +And the princess answered: "I wished to avow the truth, but perhaps my +lord would not have had faith. It is on account of the children that I +tell the truth." + +King Chah Djouhou answered: "Since it is so, it is fitting that we +should start, and make a visit upon King Haroun-er-Raschid." + +He called his ministers, ordered them to make all the preparations, and +commanded them to place in order ingots of gold and ingots of silver on +which were graven the name of King Haroun-er-Raschid; and his +ministers' vestments woven of goats' hair and fine wool, stuffs of +price, many kinds of superb precious stones of various colors, formed +the burden of forty camels, which bore these presents to the King, his +father-in-law, in the city of Bagdad. + +During the night Princess Djouher thought in her heart: "If the two +kings meet, there will necessarily be discord, and at the end +separation." Having thus thought she said to her husband: "O sovereign +of the world, do not set out at the same time with me, for in my +opinion the meeting of the two kings would have as a final result a +disagreement. Permit me therefore to start first with the three +children, that I may present them to my father and mother. Give the +command to conduct me to the country of Bagdad, near my father, to +whomsoever you shall judge worthy of your confidence for this mission." + +When the prince heard these words of the princess whom he loved so +tenderly and whose wishes he granted, he ordered his ministers and +chiefs to arrange the transport of the princess and her children. +Addressing the ministers he said as follows: "O you my ministers, whom +among you can I charge to conduct safely my wife and three children to +Bagdad, near their ancestor King Haroun-er-Raschid?" + +No one among them dared approach and speak. All held silence. Then the +prince, addressing the oldest minister of all, said: + +"O my minister, it is you to whom, following the dictates of my heart, +I can trust to accompany my wife and three children. For I have always +found you loyal and faithful to me. Beside, you are older than the +other ministers. And you have the fear of God the most high and worthy +of all praise as well as respect for your King." + +The minister said: "O my lord, it is in all sincerity that your servant +puts above his head the commands of your Majesty. I shall do my whole +duty in conducting the princess and her children to the King Haroun-er- +Raschid." + +So the King Chah Djouhou trusted his wife and his three children to +this perfidious minister, reposing upon the promise he had made. Forty +camels were laden with presents, forty nurses for the children, one +hundred ladies in the suite of the princess, a thousand cavaliers, well +armed and well equipped, formed the escort. The princess took leave of +her husband. He held her clasped in his arms, and, weeping, covered her +and his three children with kisses. He bade her to present his homage +to her father the Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid, his salutations to her +elder brother Minbah-Chahaz, and to place at the feet of their +majesties a thousand and a thousand apologies, and to make his excuses +to her brother Minbah-Chahaz. Then the prince said to the wicked +minister: + +"O my minister, you must go now, and lead the camel of my wife, for I +have perfect confidence in you. Above all, guard her well." + +But the King did not lean upon God the most high and worthy of all +praise, and that is why God punished him. + +When the prince had finished speaking to the minister the latter said: +"O my lord, King of the world, your servant bears your command on his +head." So the cavalcade started on the march. Princess Djouher-Manikam +mounted her camel with her three children. A body-guard held the van. +She proceeded accompanied by the wretched minister and all the escort, +wending from day to day toward the city of Bagdad. They had reached one +of the halting-places when day was turning into night. The minister +then erected a tent so that the princess might repose in it. The people +put up their tents all about. Princess Djouher-Manikam dismounted from +her camel and entered the tent, with her three children. The tents of +the nurses and ladies-in-waiting surrounded the tent of the princess in +a circle. In the middle of the night a violent rain began to fall. Then +the wretched minister, stirred by Satan, was stirred in his heart. He +thought: "The King's wife is most beautiful; beautiful, indeed, as her +name, Djouher-Manikam. I must marry her." + +So the rebel minister started, and entered the tent of the princess, +and asked her to marry him. He found her seated by her three children, +occupied in chasing away the mosquitoes. When the princess saw him +enter her tent she asked him: "O my minister, what brings you to my +tent at this hour in the middle of the night?" + +The minister answered, "I have come to beg you to marry me." + +The princess then said: "Is that what brings you here? And it was to +you that the King intrusted me on account of your great age, and as if +you were my father. It was in you that he put all his confidence that +you would take us safely, me and my children, to my venerable father, +King Haroun-er-Raschid. What must be your nature, that you should so +betray his trust?" + +The wretched minister replied: "If you refuse to marry me, I will kill +your children." + +"Never," said the princess, "never shall I consent to marry you. And if +you kill my children, what can I do against the decree of God, save to +invoke his name?" + +The minister killed one of the children. When it was dead, he made the +same demand on the princess for the second time, and she answered: +"Never shall I consent to marry you." + +The minister said: "If you refuse, I shall kill another of your +children." + +The Princess Djouher-Manikam answered: "If you slay my child, it is by +the decree of God, and I submit to his will." + +The minister killed the second child. + +"No," repeated the princess. "Never shall I consent to wed you." + +The wretched minister said: "Then I will kill your third child." + +"If you kill him, what can I do but to submit to the will of God, and +invoke his name?" The third son of the King was killed. + +Questioned anew, the princess said again, "Never shall I marry you." + +And the wicked minister said: "If you will not marry me, I will kill +you, too." + +Then the princess thought in her heart: "If I do not appear to yield, +he will kill me, too, without a doubt. I must employ a trick." Then she +said: "Await me here, until I wash from my clothes and my body the +stains of my children's blood." + +The minister accursed of God replied: "Very well. I await you here." + +Then the princess Djouher went out of her tent. The rain was falling in +torrents. The princess, fleeing precipitately, walked during the whole +night, not knowing where she was going. She had walked many hours when +day broke. The princess arrived thus near a tree in the midst of the +plain, and, having measured its height with her eyes, she climbed into +it. At this moment there passed along the road a merchant who had made +his sales and was returning to the city of Bassrah. His name was +Biyapri. Passing beneath the tree he raised his eyes and beheld a woman +seated in the tree. + +"Who are you?" he said; "are you woman or djinn?" + +"I am neither demon nor djinn, but a descendant of the prophet of God +(may blessings rest upon him), a disciple of the prophet Mahomet, envoy +of God." + +Biyapri climbed up the tree, put her on his camel, and taking up his +journey conducted her to the country of Bassrah. Arriving at his house +he desired to marry her. But she put him off saying: "Wait, for I have +made a solemn vow before God not to look upon the face of a man for +forty days. When the time expires, that will be possible. But if these +forty days have not yet run I should surely die." So Biyapri installed +her on his latticed roof and lavished attention and care upon her. + +Immediately after the flight of the princess Djouher-Mani-kam the +minister commanded the whole escort to return and present itself to the +King Chah Djouhou. He said to his people: "O all your servants of the +Queen, see what has been her conduct. Her three children are dead, and +it is she who killed them. After that she disappeared. Where has she +taken refuge? Nobody in the world knows that. As for you, depart, bear +the bodies of his three children to King Chah Djouhou, and tell him all +the circumstances." + +Arriving in the presence of the King, they reported all the +circumstances of the minister's treachery toward the princess, and the +murder of his three children. They added that the minister had +departed, leaving word that he had gone to find the princess, and had +taken with him his own three sons, forty soldiers, and the treasure. + +When the prince had heard these words he was struck with a stupor. But +his sorrow at having let the princess go without him was useless. He +caused the three young princes to be buried. The King shed tears, and +all the people of the household filled the air with cries and sobs, so +that the noise seemed like the bursts of thunder, while the funeral +ceremonies were proceeding according to the customs of the greatest +kings. After that the King descended from his royal throne and became a +dervish, the better to seek in all lands his well-beloved spouse. He +had with him three slaves only. One of them was named Hestri. + +"Go," he said to him, "go seek your mistress in all countries." And he +gave him a horse and some provisions. + +Hestri said: "May your Majesty be happy! O lord, King of the world, +whatever be your commands, your servant places them upon his head." +Hestri bowed low, then mounted his horse and rode away toward the city +of Bassrah. + +After proceeding some time he reached Bassrah, and passed by the house +of Biyapri. At this very moment the princess Djouher-Manikam was +sitting on the roof of Biyapri's house. She looked attentively at the +face of Hestri as he was passing by the house and called to him saying: +"Hestri, what brings you here?" + +Hestri, casting his glance toward the roof, saw the princess Djouher- +Manikam and said to her: "I was sent by your husband to seek you, +princess." + +She replied: "Go away, for the present. Come back when it is night. As +it is broad daylight now I fear lest Biyapri should discover our +departure." + +Hestri, bowing low, replied, "Very well, princess." He walked here and +there, waiting till night should come. When it was dark he returned to +the house of Biyapri and waited a few minutes. Then he called the +princess. + +"Wait," she said, "for Biyapri is still watching." Hestri stooped down, +and fell asleep near Biyapri's house, having first of all tied the +bridle of the horse to his girdle. + +The princess Djouher-Manikam descended from the roof, and mounted the +horse while Hestri was yet sleeping. She sat on the horse waiting till +Hestri should awake. But an Æthiopian robber, who had come to rob the +storehouse of Biyapri, saw the horse whose bridle was attached to the +belt of Hestri. He unfastened the bridle and led the horse to the +middle of the plain. In the mind of the princess it was Hestri who was +thus leading the horse. But the moon having risen, the Æthiopian saw +seated upon the horse a woman of a striking and marvellous beauty. The +heart of the Æthiopian was filled with joy. He said in his heart: + +"For a very long time have I been stealing riches. Truly, I have +acquired no small store of jewels, pearls, precious stones, gold and +silver, and magnificent vestments of all sorts. But all that is nothing +in comparison with the marvel I have just now found and who will become +my wife, the light of my eyes, and the fruit of my heart. Now shall I +enjoy in peace the happiness of having such a wife." + +The house of the Æthiopian robber was seated on the top of a hill. He +conducted the princess thither, showed her all it contained, and gave +it to her, saying: "O my future bride, it is to you that all which this +house contains belongs. Make use of it according to your good +pleasure." The princess said, "First of all, be tranquil." And she +thought in her heart: "This is my destiny. First I was with Biyapri, +and now I have fallen into the hands of an Aethiopian robber. It is by +the will of God that this has happened to his servant." The Æthiopian +robber was bent on having the marriage celebrated at once, but the +princess said: "I cannot be married now, for I have made a vow to God +the most high not to see the face of a man for three days." + +The Æthiopian robber desired to drink, and said: "Come, let us drink +together." + +"In my opinion," observed the princess, "if we begin to drink both +together you will become heavy with wine, and I, too. Then they will +take me far from you and kill you. Come, I will fill your cup and you +shall drink first. When you have drunk enough, then I will drink in my +turn, and you shall fill my cup." + +The Æthiopian robber was very joyful at these words of the princess. +"What you say is true," said he. He received with great pleasure the +cup from the hands of the princess and drank. After emptying the cup +many times he fell down in the stupor of intoxication, losing his +senses and becoming like a dead man. The princess Djouher-Manikam put +on a magnificent costume of a man, and adding a weapon something like a +_kandjar_, went out of the house. Then mounting her horse she rode +forward quickly and came to the foot of the hill. She directed her +course toward the country of Roum, and continuing her journey from +forest to forest, and from plain to plain, she reached the gate of the +fortifications of the city of Roum at the moment when the King of that +country had just died. + +When the princess Djouher-Manikam had arrived outside the +fortifications of Roum, she sat down in the _baley, near the fort. She +was marvellously beautiful, and her vestments, all sparkling with gold, +were adorned with precious stones, pearls, and rubies. A man happening +to pass by saw her, and was seized with astonishment and admiration. +For in the country of Roum there was nobody who could compare with this +young man, so handsome and so magnificently attired. He asked: + +"Whence come you and why did you come here?" + +The princess answered: "I know not the place where I am at this moment. +I came from the city of Damas." + +This citizen of Roum took leave and went away to present himself to the +vezir and tell what he had seen. The vezir, having heard him, went out +promptly to find the young man. As soon as he had approached him and +had seen his remarkable beauty and his splendid vestments decorated +with precious stones, pearls, and rubies, the vezir seated himself by +him and said: + +"Young man, whence do you come, and why did you come to this land?" + +The princess answered: "I wish to travel through the world for my +pleasure. That is my will." + +The vezir replied: "Would you like to have us make you King of this +country?" The princess replied: "For what reason should I wish to be +king in this country? And by what means could it be achieved?" + +The vezir replied: "Our King is dead." + +"Is there no child?" asked the princess. + +"The King has left a child," answered the vezir, "but he is still very +little, and incapable of governing his subjects. That is why we will +make you King of this country." + +The princess Djouher-Manikam answered: "Why not? What prevents? If you +all will follow my counsel I will accept the throne of this country." + +The ministers said, "And why should we not follow the commands of my +lord?" + +The vezir conducted her to the palace. All the ministers of state and +the high officers assembled to proclaim as their king the princess +Djouher-Manikam. That done, the princess took the name of Radja Chah +Djouhou. + +After reigning some time her spirit of justice and her perfect equity +in the government of her subjects rendered her name celebrated in all +the foreign countries. Radja Chah Djouhou said to her minister: + +"O minister, have built for me a _baley_ outside the fort." And the +ministers and the officers commanded them in haste to construct the +_baley_. As soon as it was built they came to announce it to the King. +The latter said: + +"O my vezir, is there in my kingdom a man who knows how to paint?" + +"Yes, my lord, king of the world, there is a very skilful painter +here." + +"Let him come to me." + +"Immediately, my lord," said the vezir, and he ordered a slave to go +and summon the painter. The painter came in all haste and entered the +presence of Radja Chah Djouhou, bowing his head to the floor. The +prince said to him: + +"O painter, have you a daughter who knows how to paint?" + +The painter answered: "Yes, my lord, king of the world, I have a +daughter very skilful in the art of painting." + +"Tell your child to come here." + +The painter bowed again and went to find his daughter. "O my child," he +said, "the fruit of my heart, come, the King calls you." + +Then the painter's daughter quickly set out, accompanied by her father. +They together entered the presence of the King, who was still +surrounded by his ministers and his officers. The painter and his +daughter bowed their heads to the floor. The prince said: + +"Painter, is this your daughter?" + +"O my lord, king of the world, yes, this is my daughter." + +"Come with me into the interior of the palace." And at the same time +the prince started and entered his apartments, followed by the daughter +of the painter. He led the way to a retired place, and said: "My +daughter, make my portrait, I pray you, and try to have the resemblance +good." Then the princess Djouher-Manikam clothed herself in woman's +raiment, and in this costume she was ravishingly beautiful. That done, +she commanded the artist to paint her thus. She succeeded perfectly and +the portrait was a remarkable likeness, for the daughter of the painter +was very skilful. When her work was finished she received a large sum +in gold. The prince said to her: + +"Come, sister, let this remain a secret. Reveal it not to anyone in the +world. If you tell it I will slay you, with your father and your +mother." + +The daughter of the painter said: "O my lord, king of the world, how +could your servant disobey your Majesty's commands?" + +She bowed low, and asked permission to go home. + +Radja Chah Djouhou, in the presence of his ministers and his subjects, +said to the vizier: "O vizier, place this portrait in the _baley_ +outside the fort, and have it guarded by forty men. If anyone coming to +this portrait begins to weep or kiss it, seize him and bring him before +me." The portrait hung in the _baley_, and the vezir ordered an officer +to guard it with forty soldiers. + +When the Æthiopian robber came out of his drunken slumber he saw that +the princess Djouher-Manikam was no longer in his house. So he went +out-of-doors weeping, and took up his journey, going from country to +country until he arrived at the city of Roum. There he saw a _baley_, +and hanging there a portrait which bore a perfect resemblance to the +princess Djouher-Manikam. Quickly he climbed to the _baley_, and, +holding the portrait in his arms, he wept and covered it with kisses. + +"O unhappy man that I am! Here is the portrait of my well-beloved for +whom I was seeking. Where can she be?" + +The guards of the _baley_, seeing the act of the Æthiopian, seized him +and bore him before the King. They told the deed. + +The prince said: "Æthiopian robber, why did you act thus in reference +to this picture?" + +The Æthiopian answered: "O my lord, king of the world, I ask you a +thousand and a thousand pardons. Your servant will tell the truth. If +they kill me I shall die; if they hang me I shall be lifted very high; +if they sell me I shall be carried very far away. O king of the world, +hear the words of your humble slave. A certain night I had started out +to rob. I found a horse, and on its back there was a woman of the most +marvellous beauty. I took her to my house. I fell asleep in my cups. My +beloved one disappeared. I became mad, and so it is, O king of the +world, that your slave came to the fort and saw the portrait hanging at +the _baley_. This portrait is the faithful picture of my well-beloved. +That is why I weep." + +The prince said: "O my vezir, let this man be carefully guarded. Treat +him well and give him plenty to eat." On the other hand, Biyapri, after +forty days, mounting the roof, saw that the princess Djouher was no +longer there. He became mad, abandoned his house and all his wealth, +and, becoming a dervish, went from country to country seeking the +princess Djouher-Manikam, without ever finding her. Coming to the +country of Roum he saw the _baley_ situated outside the fort, and +stopped there. Then he saw the portrait, and, observing it with the +closest attention, he began to weep. Then he took it in his arms and +covered it with kisses. + +"Alas, my well-beloved!" he cried, "here indeed is your picture, but +where can I find you?" He was immediately seized by the guard and led +before the King of Roum. + +"Biyapri," said the prince, "whence do you come, and why did you act +thus?" Biyapri answered: "O my lord, king of the world, your slave asks +pardon a thousand and a thousand times. I will tell the whole truth. If +they kill me, I shall die; if they hang me, I shall be lifted very +high; if they sell me, I shall be taken very far away. When I was +engaged in commerce I passed under a tree, and saw that in this tree +there was a woman of the most marvellous beauty. I took her and carried +her to the city of Bassrah and installed her on the roof of my +storehouse. A certain night she disappeared without my knowing where +she had gone. Then, O king of the world, I became as one mad and left +my native land. Arriving at the country of Roum I saw a _baley_ outside +the fort and came to sit down there. Then, my lord, I saw the portrait +hanging at the _baley_. It exactly resembles my beloved, whom I lost. I +pressed it in my arms and covered it with kisses. Such is the truth, O +king of the world." + +The prince then said to his minister: "O minister, let this man be +carefully guarded and give him food and clothes." + +The King of Damas, after abdicating the throne, had left his kingdom, +and in the costume of a dervish had started to travel through the +different countries. Arriving at Roum, the King Chah Djouhou saw a +_baley_ situated outside of the fort, and went to sit down near it. The +prince looking closely at the portrait, which was exactly like the +princess Djouher-Manikam, burst into a flood of tears and exclaimed: + +"Alas! Fruit of my heart, my well-beloved, light of my eyes! It is, +indeed, your picture. But you, whom I seek, oh, where are you?" + +Speaking thus, the prince took the portrait in his arms and covered it +with kisses. Seeing this, the guards of the _baley_ seized him and +carried him before the King. + +The King said to him: "My lord, whence do you come? How have you +wandered into this country? And why did you behave thus about my +portrait?" + +The King Chah Djouhou answered: "Know that my wife, who is named the +princess Djouher-Manikam, has disappeared far from me. It is for that +reason that I have left my kingdom, and that I, dressed as a dervish, +have walked from country to country, from plain to plain, from village +to village, seeking her whom I have never been able to find. But +arriving in your Majesty's country I saw hanging at the _baley_ that +portrait, which is of a striking resemblance to my wife. It is for this +reason that I wept in contemplating this picture." + +The princess smiled, and at the same time her heart was softened at +seeing the conduct of her husband. She said to her prime minister: "O +my minister, I confide this person to your care. Treat him worthily, +give him the best of food and a suite of attendants. He is the King of +Damas." + +The minister therefore, by command of the princess, departed and +conducted the King of Damas to a fine house, furnished and equipped +according to the needs of kings. + +The minister took all the riches which had been intended as presents +for the King Haroun-er-Raschid. The ingots of gold and of silver, the +rich garments in fine stuffs of the country of Rouzoungga, as well as +the vestments of the princess Djouher-Manikam and of her three +children, were transported and sold in the city of Bagdad. But the King +Haroun-er-Raschid, seeing that his name and that of his daughter, the +princess Djouher-Manikam, were graven on these ingots of gold and +silver, seized all these riches. + +The minister of the country of Damas said, "These riches are mine." + +On his side the King Haroun-er-Raschid said: "These riches are mine, +for my name and that of my child are engraved on these ingots of gold +and silver." + +The minister said, "Since your Majesty declares that these treasures +are yours, we must try this case in a court of justice." + + The King of Bagdad answered: "It is well. We will go wherever you +wish." + +"Very well," said the minister; "let us go then before the King of the +country of Roum. That prince has the reputation of being extremely +just. Each of us shall plead his cause." + +The prince answered: "It is well." The minister replied: "O king of the +world, let us start without delay." + +So the King Haroun-er-Raschid set out with his son Min-bah-Chahaz, his +chief warrior, and his soldiers. The cadi accompanied the prince. On +his side, the minister of the country of Damas started, accompanied by +his three sons and forty soldiers of the country of Damas. After +proceeding some time, they arrived at the city of Roum and entered the +fortifications. Each one of them presented himself before the King and +pleaded his cause. + +The King Haroun-er-Raschid expressed himself as follows: "O king of the +world! I present myself before your Majesty to ask your impartial +judgment. The minister of the country of Damas brought to Bagdad, among +other precious objects, ingots of gold and ingots of silver, on which +are engraved my name and that of my daughter, the princess Djouher- +Manikam. I seized these, and come to your Majesty to decide my claim to +them." + +The King of Roum said: "If it pleases God the most high, this affair +shall be judged with the best of my powers." The King of Roum +continued: "My officers and you, my ministers and chiefs, seek all the +divine inspiration to decide the difference existing between the King +of Bagdad and the minister of Damas." + +The officers bowed low and said: "O my lord, king of the world, +whatever they may be, we shall put the commands of your Majesty above +our heads and shall carry them out to the letter." And they deliberated +on the character of the dispute. + +The King of Bagdad declared: "These objects are precious to me, for +they bear engraven upon them the names of myself and my child." + +On the other hand, and at the same time, the minister Damas declared, +"These precious objects are mine." + +The ministers and chiefs were very much embarrassed, and said to the +King: "O king of the world, we, all of us, are unable to judge this +dispute. It is too difficult for us. Only the impartial judgment of +your Majesty can decide it." + +The prince said: "It is well. I will pronounce sentence, if it please +God the most high, provided that you consent to accept it." + +The King of Bagdad answered: "O king of the world, judge between us +according to your impartial justice." + +The King of Roum then said: "O minister of Damas, and you, King of +Bagdad, is it the wish of both of you that I should give judgment +according to the judgment of God the most high?" + +And they both answered: "That is what we ask, the judgment of God." + +The prince replied: "If you consent on both sides, it is well." + +"I consent to it," said the minister of Damas. + +"And I, too," said the King of Bagdad. + +The King of Roum then spoke in these terms: "In conformity with the law +of the most high God, I ask this question of the King of Bagdad: Have +you a daughter?" + +The King of Bagdad replied: "Yes, king of the world, I have a daughter +and a son." + +"And have you at present these two children?" + +The King of Bagdad answered: "I have my son, but my daughter--I lost +her." + +The King of Roum, continuing, said: "What is the cause of the loss of +your daughter?" The King of Bagdad answered: "O king of the world, hear +my story. While I was gone on a pilgrimage with my wife and my son, +whose name is Minbah-Chahaz, I left my daughter to watch over my +palace. Arriving at the end of my pilgrimage, I sent home a letter to +the cadi, conceived as follows: 'May peace be with the cadi: I shall +wait still for the grand pilgrimage about a year longer. As for all +that concerns my kingdom, my palace, and my daughter, the princess +Djouher-Manikam, watch with greatest care, and beware of any negligence +in the protection of my kingdom and my child.' Some time later the cadi +sent me a letter at Mecca, couched in these words: 'O king of the +world, your servant has received the command to watch over the palace +and the princess. But the princess now desires to marry me.' After I +had read the letter from the cadi I called my son Minbah-Chahaz, and +said to him: 'Start at once for Bagdad, and slay your sister.' My son +Minbah-Chahaz started immediately for Bagdad, and killed his sister. +Then he returned and found me at Mecca. His cutlass was still blood- +stained. Then I cried: 'Praise be to God the Lord of the universe, our +shame is effaced.' Such is my story, O king of the world." + +The King of Roum said: "It is well. Now I shall pronounce judgment." +And addressing the minister of Damas he said to him: "O minister of +Damas, tell me the truth if you wish that at the day of judgment the +prophet should intercede for you (may the peace and blessings of God be +upon him!). Speak and tell the truth. Say whence come these riches, in +order that I may pronounce my judgment between you." + +The minister of the King of Damas said: "O my lord, king of the world, +I will lay at the foot of your Majesty's throne the completed story +from the beginning. I received a mission from the King Chah Djouhou: 'O +my minister,' he said, 'start, I send you to the city of Bagdad, taking +my three children to their grandfather, and my wife, the princess +Djouher-Manikam, to her mother and her father, the King Haroun-er- +Raschid.' I set out, therefore, with the escort which accompanied the +princess Djouher-Manikam, and we arrived at our first halting-place. +When it was night I erected a tent, and the people of the escort all +put up tents around that of the princess. But Satan breathed into my +heart a temptation. This thought came to me: 'The wife of the King is +wonderfully beautiful, and she has such a pretty name! I will go and +ask her to marry me.' So I entered her tent. At that moment she was +seated by her sleeping children, occupied in keeping away the +mosquitoes. The princess demanded, 'O my minister, why do you come +here?' And I answered, 'I have come to ask you to marry me.' The +princess said: 'Have you no fear of God the most high? No, I cannot +marry you. What would become of me if I should do such a thing?' Then I +said, 'If you will not agree to marry me, I will kill one of your +children.' The princess answered: 'If you kill my child it will be by +the judgment of God, and what can I do but to invoke his name?' Then I +killed one of the children. When he was dead I asked again if she would +marry me, and I killed another of the children. When this one was dead +I asked the same question. The princess answered, 'I cannot marry when +I am already married.' I said to her, 'If you will not, then I will +kill the third of your children.' The princess Djouher-Manikam +answered, 'If you kill my third child, it will be by the judgment of +God, and what can I do but invoke his name, for I am only a woman?' So +I killed the third child. After the death of this last child of the +King, I put again my question to the princess. She would not consent to +marry me. I said to her, 'If you don't, I will kill you.' She answered: +'If you kill me, it is the decree of God. But wait awhile, for I wish +to wash my garments and cleanse the traces of my children's blood from +my body.' I said, 'It is well. We will have the wedding-feast to- +morrow.' She left the tent. It was raining in torrents. I could not +discover where she went. Such is my story, O king of the world." + +The King said, "Minister of the country of Damas, have you any sons?" + +He answered, "Yes, my lord, king of the world, I have three sons." + +The prince said: "Let your three sons come here, in order that I may +give judgment quickly, according to the law instituted by the prophet +(may the peace and blessings of God be upon him!). Behold what his law +prescribes: The minister killed the children of the princess Djouher- +Manikam. It is not, therefore, the minister who should be punished with +death, but his children should be slain. The execution of this judgment +will be the just application of the law of retaliation between the +minister and the princess." + +The minister summoned his three sons. As soon as they had come, he +pointed them to the King of Roum. + +The latter said to his minister, "O minister, where is the Æthiopian +whom they brought here?" The Æthiopian robber was brought out, and +prostrated himself before the King of Roum. + +The King of Roum said to him: "Æthiopian, return to your own country +and change your mode of life. You will never see again the woman for +whom you are seeking." And the prince gave him a _keti_ of gold. + +Then the prince said: "O my minister, where is Biyapri? Let them bring +him here." So they brought Biyapri. When he arrived he bowed low before +the prince. + +The prince said: "Biyapri, go back to your own country and change your +conduct. The woman whom you seek you will never see again." And the +prince made him a gift of two _keti_ of gold. + +The King of Roum then said: "Let all assemble. I am about to pronounce +judgment between the King of Bagdad and the minister of Damas." The +minister and the officers assembled therefore in the presence of the +King, together with many of his subjects. + +The King of Roum said: "O my executioner, let the three children of the +minister of Damas be all killed; such is the divine command." So the +children of the minister of Damas were all three killed. + +After they were dead the prince said: "Minister, return to the country +of Damas, with a rag for your girdle, and during your last days change +your conduct. If you do not know it, I am the princess Djouher-Manikam, +daughter of the Sultan of Bagdad, wife of Chah Djouhou, my lord, and +the sister of Minbah-Chahaz. God has stricken your eyes with blindness +on account of your crimes toward me. It is the same with the cadi of +the city of Bagdad." + +The minister of Damas, seized with fear, trembled in all his limbs. He +cast himself at the feet of the princess Manikam, and thus prostrated +he implored pardon a thousand and a thousand times. Then he returned to +Damas all in tears, and overwhelmed with grief at the death of his +three sons. The cadi, covered with shame on account of his treachery to +the Sultan of Bagdad, fled and expatriated himself. + +The King of Roum commanded them to bring the King Chah Djouhou and give +him a garment all sparkling with gold, and he sent him to dwell in the +company of his father-in-law, the Sultan of Bagdad, and his brother-in- +law, the prince Minbah-Chahaz. + +Then the princess Djouher-Manikam retired. She entered the palace and +returned clad in the garments of a woman. She then went out, +accompanied by ladies of the court, and went to present herself to her +father, the Sultan of Bagdad. She bowed before her father, her brother +the prince Minbah-Chahaz, and her husband, the King Chah Djouhou. The +princess said: "O all of you, lords and warriors of the country of +Roum, know that I am a woman, and not a man. Behold my father, the +Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid, King of Bagdad. Behold my brother, whose name +is Minbah-Chahaz; and behold my husband, the King Chah Djouhou, who +reigns over the country of Damas. From the time when you placed me upon +the throne of Roum, if I have committed any fault by error or by +ignorance, you must excuse me, for constantly the servants of God +commit faults by error or ignorance. It is only God alone who forgets +not, nor neglects, and is free from error or ignorance." + +The grandees of the country of Roum said: "Never has your Majesty +committed the least fault, either by ignorance or by error, during the +time you have reigned over the country of Roum. Nevertheless, among the +judgments just now rendered there was a fault committed by your +glorious Majesty. The minister killed, the princess killed, both did it +voluntarily. It was a fault of judgment for the princess Djouher- +Manikam to have killed the children of the minister, just as the +minister committed a fault in killing the children of the princess. +There was a likeness there. Still, if it pleases her Majesty to remain +upon the throne of Roum, we should all be very glad of it." + +The princess Djouher said: "I shall take leave of you, my lords. It is +good that we should make the young prince king, and that he should +replace me on the throne." + +The ministers and the officers of Roum responded, "Whatever be the +commands of your Majesty, we place them above our heads." + +Then the princess made the royal prince her successor, and the +ministers and officers and subjects all bowed low, placed their hands +above their heads, and proclaimed him King. + +The princess Djouher-Manikam said: "O my child, here are the last +instructions your mother gives you: You must practise justice so that +God will make strong your realm. To you, my ministers and officers, I +confide my child. If he commits some faults by negligence or by +ignorance, I pray you take them not too much to heart, for my child is +young, and he has not yet attained all the maturity of his judgment." + +The ministers and officers answered: "O your Majesty, may your +prosperity grow forever! How could it be possible for us to disobey +your commands?" + +The princess replied: "O my child, above all must you observe justice +and be patient and liberal toward your ministers and officers and all +your subjects, so that the favors of God may increase upon your person +and that your kingdom may be protected by God the most high by the +grace of the intercession of the prophet Mahomet, the envoy of God (may +the, peace and blessings of God be with him!). O my child, you must +govern all your subjects with a spirit of justice, for in this world, +until death, we ought to seek the truth. O my child, above all forget +not my last instructions." Then, taking in her arms the royal child, +she kissed him. + +The Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid having told the Sultan of Roum that he +wished to return to the country of Bagdad, the Sultan gave orders to +his ministers to assemble the grandees, the officers, and the soldiers, +with elephants, horses, and instruments of music. All came with +presents, for the Sultan of Roum wished to accompany the Sultan Haroun- +er-Raschid as far as Bagdad and carry him the presents. The favorable +moment having arrived, the Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid departed from Roum, +directing his way to the country of Bagdad, from plain to plain, and +from halting-place to halting-place. After journeying some time, they +rejoicing all the way, they arrived at the country of Bagdad. + +The ministers, the chiefs, and the soldiers came out to meet the Sultan +Haroun-er-Raschid, and they entered the palace. Then the Queen hastened +to find the Sultan and her daughter, the princess Djouher-Manikam. +Meeting her daughter, she pressed her in her arms and covered her with +kisses. She said in tears: "Alas, my child! the fruit of my heart! I, +your mother thought that she would never see you again." And she +covered her body with tears and kisses, while she kept repeating, +"Alas, my child! I thought you lost forever." Then the Queen bowed +before the Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid. Her son, Minbah-Chahaz, then came +to bow before his mother, but the latter pressed him in her arms and +kissed him. Then her son-in-law, King Chah Djouhou, advanced and bowed +before the Queen in his turn. And she pressed him in her arms and +kissed him. All were in tears. + +The Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid started for the hall of audience, and gave +orders to one of his heralds to assemble his ministers, his warriors, +and his subjects. When they were all gathered together the Sultan said: +"Now I wish to entertain the ministers, the chiefs, and the officers +who escorted us here." When the Sultan had finished entertaining them +they desired to take leave and return to the country of Roum. The +Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid made them gifts of vestments of honor, to each +according to his rank. They prostrated themselves at his feet, and then +returned in peace to the country of Roum. + +Afterward, the Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid ordered one of his heralds to +assemble his ministers, his officers, and his subjects. Once gathered +together, the prince said: "O all of you, my ministers and my officers, +you must build me a house of baths seven stories high, on the public +square of Bagdad." + +All responded, "O my lord, king of the world, whatever your commands +may be, your servants place them above their heads." And all, +ministers, officers, and subjects, gave themselves to the work, each of +them doing what was directed by the architect. After some time, the +palace of baths was finished. It was sumptuously adorned with curtains +of silk, canopies, tapestries woven with gold and fringed with pearls. +Rugs embroidered with gold were stretched on the different floors, and +there was a quantity of torches and lanterns. + +Then the builders came before the King and said: "O my lord, king of +the world, your slaves have finished their work according to the +commands of your Majesty." + +The King Haroun-er-Raschid gave thanks unto God the most high, worthy +of all praise, the true Lord who accords to his servants all their +needs. + +Then the festivals began. For forty days and forty nights the bands +never stopped playing. There were sports, banquets, amusements of all +sorts. They gave themselves noisily to pleasure, because the Sultan was +going to proceed to the ceremony of the bath of the two spouses, his +children. When the watches were finished and the favorable moment had +come, the Sultan was arrayed in a magnificent garment embroidered with +gold, while the princess Djouher-Manikam was adorned by her mother with +superb veils and vestments trimmed with jewels, with pearls and +precious stones of an incomparable richness. The spouses thus adorned, +the Sultan made them mount a palanquin. His son, Minbah-Cha-haz, was +clad in a splendid costume. + +The Sultan mounted his horse Sembaran, and his saddle was of carved +gold. Surrounded by young princes and lords, by officers of his court +and the standards, Haroun-er-Raschid marched at the head. He advanced, +followed by princes, ministers, and officers. The wives of the grandees +accompanied the Queen with her maids-of-honor, and all the musical +instruments gave forth their harmonious sounds. Seven times they made +the circuit of the city. When the two spouses had arrived at the foot +of the Palace of Baths the Sultan made them ascend. Then came the +spouses of the grandees with the Queen, who showered them with rice- +powder mixed with amber and musk, and poured on their heads spikenard +and _curcuma_ (turmeric). They were both plunged into a bath of rose- +water and extracts of all sorts of aromatic flowers, together with +water from the sacred fountain of Zemzem. + +The ceremonies of the bath finished, the two spouses went out of the +Palace of Baths and went into the King's palace. On their arrival, they +served a repast to the princes, the _orilemas_, the doctors of the law, +the priests, the ministers, the officers, the common people, men and +women. All without exception took part in the feast. When it was ended +one of the doctors of the law recited the prayer asking God for perfect +happiness, sheltered from all danger in this life and the next. Then he +sprinkled showers of the most charming perfumes. + +After that the Chah Djouhou went to find the Sultan, and said to him: +"O my lord, king of the world, I have to ask your Majesty a favor and +pardon. I wish to take leave of your Majesty and return to the country +of Damas, for the country of Damas is forsaken, O my lord." + +The Sultan said, "It is well, my lord. Your country, truly, is +separated from its King. If it were not for your kingdom I would wish +never to be separated from you, now that I have my daughter back again. +But if I am inclined to commit a fault, do not comply with it." + +Radja Chah Djouhou answered; "Your daughter is like a soul which has +entered my body. That is how I feel. But the countless favors of your +Majesty to me, I place them above my head." + +The Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid then said to his prime minister: "O my +minister, get ready to start 3,000 soldiers and 300 horsemen. And have +elephants or horses well equipped to transport my two children, husband +and wife." When the escort was ready, then the Sultan commanded them to +open the place where his treasures were stored, and forty-four camels +were laden with riches, with vestments of woven gold and precious +objects such as are found only in the palaces of kings. + +All these preparations being finished, Radja Chah Djouhou took leave of +his father-in-law, his mother-in-law, and his brother-in-law, Minbah- +Chahaz. The latter all held in their arms and covered with kisses the +princess Djouher-Manikam, as well as Radja Chah Djouhou. He and his +brother-in-law Minbah-Chahaz wept as they embraced, and the people of +the palace burst into sobs with a noise like that of the waves breaking +on the seashore. Finally the princess Djouher and the King Chah +Djouhou, after bowing before their father, mother, and brother, set out +for the country of Damas, to the imposing sound of all the instruments +of music. The Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid and his son, Minbah-Chahaz, +conducted them outside of the fortifications. When they were far off, +the Sultan went back to his palace, walking sadly with his son, Minbah- +Chahaz, and praying God to bless his children. + +After some time on the journey, the King Chah Djouhou arrived at the +country of Damas. The officers and the soldiers sallied from the +fortifications of Damas and went to meet the prince. The ministers and +the officers bowed low at his feet, all rejoicing over the happy return +and perfect health of the King and Queen. The prince entered his +palace, and the two spouses lived full of tenderness for each other. + +I will not prolong this story of the princess Djouher-Manikam, which +has become celebrated in all countries to windward and to leeward. I +close it here, giving my best wishes to those who shall read or hear +it, and particularly to those who shall copy it! + + + + +MAKOTA RADJA-RADJA; + +OR, + +THE CROWN OF KINGS + +[_Translated by Aristide Marre and C. C. Starkweather_] + + +Kings who are of the true faith, who have wisdom and follow justice, +cause men worthy of their confidence to travel through their kingdom, +to serve as their eyes and ears, and to make reports on the state and +condition of their subjects, so that, knowing the cause, they may +examine for themselves the conduct of the servants of God. But there +are kings who do not rest contented with the report of their servants, +and go themselves by night to see the condition and hear the complaints +of subjects. Then they make by day a thorough examination of the +matters thus come to their knowledge, in order to regulate them with +justice and equity. + +A story will illustrate this. Zeyd Ibries Selam tells what follows: The +prince of the believers, the Caliph Omar (may God be satisfied with +him!), judged the servants of God with equity during the day, and after +pronouncing his judgments he went out of the city on the side toward +the cemetery called Bakia-el-Gharkada. There he cut stone to gain money +enough for the maintenance of his house, and when night had come he +went through the city to know the good and evil of the servants of God. +One night, says Zeyd Ibries Selam, "I accompanied the prince of the +believers, Omar. When he was outside of Medina, he perceived a fire in +an out-of-the-way place, and turned his steps thither. Scarcely had he +arrived when he heard a woman with three children, and the latter were +crying. The woman said: 'O God the most high, I beseech thee, make Omar +suffer what I am suffering now. He sleeps satiated with food, while I +and my children are starving.' The prince of the believers, Omar, +hearing these words, went to the woman, and with a salutation said, +'May I approach?' + +"The woman answered, 'If it be by way of goodness, come.' + +"He approached her and questioned her about her situation. + +"The woman said: 'I come from a far place; and as it was dark when I +arrived here, I could not enter the city. So I stopped at this place. +My children and I are suffering from hunger and we cannot sleep.' + +"The Caliph inquired, 'What is there in this kettle?' + +"The woman answered: 'Nothing but water. I put it in the kettle so that +the children should imagine that I was cooking rice--perhaps, then, +they would go to sleep and stop crying so loudly.' + +"As soon as Omar had heard these words he returned promptly to the city +of Medina. Arriving at a shop where they sold flour, he bought some and +put it into a sack. In another shop he bought some meat. Then lifting +the sack to his shoulders he carried it out of the city. I said to him: + +"'O prince of the believers, give me this sack, that I may carry it for +you.' + +"'If you bear the weight of this sack,' said his glorious Majesty to +me, 'who will bear the weight of my fault, and who will clear me from +the prayer of this woman in the affliction of her heart when she +complained to the Lord of my negligence?' + +"Omar, having said these words, continued to walk in tears until he had +come near the woman and her children. Then he gave her the flour and +the meat, and they ate till their hunger was appeased. The woman with a +satisfied heart cried: + +"'May God the most high hear my prayer and render you benefits, since +you are so full of compassion for the servants of God and are so much +better than Omar.' + +"The Caliph said to her, 'O woman, blame not Omar, for he knew not how +you fared.'" + +There was once a king in the country of Syria named Malik-es-Saleh, +very pious and just, and continually preoccupied with the state of his +subjects. They say that every night he went to the mosque, cemeteries, +and other solitary places, in search of strangers, fakirs, and poor +people who had neither home nor family. One night, arriving near a +mosque, he heard the voice of a man inside the edifice. He entered and +saw a fakir there. He could not see him distinctly, because he was +covered with a mat. But he heard him, and this is what he said: "O +Lord, if on the judgment-day thou shalt give a place in heaven to kings +who are forgetful of the fakirs and the poor, then, O Lord, grant that +I may not enter there." + +Malik-es-Saleh, hearing these words, shed tears. He placed a piece of +stuff before the fakir with 100 tahil of silver, and said to him: + +"O fakir, I have learned from the glorious prophet (may peace be with +him!) that fakirs become kings in heaven, after a life of self- +sacrifice on earth. Since I am King in this perishable world, I come to +you with the weakness of my nature and baseness of my being. I ask you +to be at peace with me, and to show yourself compassionate to me when +the moment of your glory in heaven shall have arrived." + +When the Sultan Zayad sat upon the royal throne of Ikak, the country +was infested with malefactors, brigands, robbers, assassins, and the +like. The compounds were destroyed, the houses pillaged, and the people +killed. The inhabitants could not sleep a single night in quiet, nor +pass a single day in safety at home. A crowd of people came with their +complaints to the Sultan Zayad, saying: + +"The compounds are destroyed, the houses are pillaged, and the men are +killed." All throughout Irak one heard nothing but reports of this +kind. + +One Friday the Sultan went to the mosque to pray. He then shut all the +doors and said to the people in the mosque: "O servants of God now +present in this mosque, know that a duty is imposed upon me. I must +protect my subjects, for I shall have to give an account of my actions +on the day of judgment. There are now in this country large numbers of +malefactors, and many of my people have been ruined by them. It is my +duty to repress these disorders. So, then, listen to what I have to +say, and repeat it to those who are not present. I swear to you that +all who shall, three days from now, leave his house after the hour of +evening prayer, shall be put to death." + +When the three days had passed and the fourth night arrived, Sultan +Zayad mounted his horse and traversed the city with an escort of +cavaliers. Outside of the city he came to a place and saw a man +standing under a tree in the middle of a flock of sheep and goats. He +said to him, "Who are you?" + +The man said: "I come from a far-off village, and I am bringing sheep +and goats to the city to sell them, and with their price to buy what I +can for my wife and children. When arrived at this place I was so tired +that I could not enter the city, and was obliged to stay here, with the +intention of entering at daybreak and selling my sheep and goats." + +Sultan Zayad, having heard this response, said: "Your words are true, +but what can I do? If I do not put you to death to-morrow, when the +news spreads, they will say Sultan Zayad is not faithful to his word. +They will regard me with disdain, and no one will obey my orders. And +the wicked ones will commit violent acts upon the good ones, and my +country will be ruined. Heaven is better for you than this world." So +he had him put to death and ordered that they should take his head. + +During that same night all that he met were killed and beheaded. They +say that in the course of that first day 500 persons were put to death. +At dawn he had all these heads exposed on the highways, and published +this proclamation: + +"Whosoever shall not obey the commands of Sultan Zayad shall suffer the +same fate." + +When the people of the country saw these heads exposed at all sides on +the earth, they were frightened, and a respectful fear of Sultan Zayad +filled all hearts. + +The second night Sultan Zayad went out again from the city, and that +night 500 persons were killed. + +The third night he remained out of the city till morning, but he did +not meet a soul. + +The following Friday Sultan Zayad went to the mosque, said his prayers, +and declared: "O servants of God, let no one after to-day shut the door +of his house nor his shop. I take upon myself the charge of replacing +those of your goods which shall be destroyed or stolen." + +They all obeyed his orders, for they feared him greatly. Their doors +remained opened for several nights, and they never suffered the +slightest loss. But after a while a man complained to the Sultan, +saying, "Last night someone stole from me 400 tahil." + +The Sultan said: "Can you swear to it?" + +The man swore to the facts, and the Sultan had 400 tahil counted out to +him in place of those he had lost. The following Friday, after prayers, +forbidding anyone to leave the mosque, the Sultan said: "O servants of +the Lord, know that 400 tahil have been stolen from the shop of a +certain man. Unless you denounce the robber, not one of you shall +escape, but to-day shall all of you be put to death." + +Now, as he had rigorously commanded attendance at Friday's prayer +service, the whole town had come to the mosque. They were seized with +fright, for they knew that the Sultan kept his word, and they denounced +the robber. The latter gave back the 400 tahil and received his +punishment. + +A long time afterward the Sultan Zayad asked, "At what place in my +kingdom do they fear robbers most of all?" + +"In the Valley of the Beni Ardou, in the country of Bassrah, for there +they are numerous." + +Sultan Zayad one day had the highways and paths of the valley strewn +with gold and silver, precious stones, and stuffs of great price. All +these things lay there a long time and not one was taken. Then the +Sultan ordered them to take up these riches and give them to the fakirs +and the poor. Then he rendered thanks unto God that he had thus +securely established his law among his subjects. + +Now it was in the times when Nouchirvau governed with justice and +equity, protecting his subjects and causing his kingdom to prosper. One +day he asked the grandees of his court, "Are there in my kingdom any +places deserted and without inhabitants?" + +The grandees who were there answered, "O king of the world, we know not +in all your Majesty's realm a place which is not inhabited." + +Nouchirvau kept silence, and for many days did not leave the palace. He +summoned to his private chamber a learned doctor named Bouzor Djambour, +and said to him: + +"I desire to know with certainty if all parts of my realm are peopled, +or if there is any which is not. How can I be sure of this?" + +"To have your Majesty's desire fully satisfied you have only to abstain +from leaving the palace." + +Saying this, Bouzor Djambour took leave of the King and went to the +audience-chamber of the King. He spoke to those assembled there as +follows: "O ministers, generals, and all present, know that his Majesty +is ill. Now, in order to cure him you must find for me a little bit of +earth from a place in ruins and uninhabited. Those who are faithful +servants of the King will not hesitate to accomplish immediately this +act of devotion in his service, and to start at once in search of the +remedy I have named." + +These words were scarcely uttered when men were sent out to search the +towns and villages and find some earth from a place in ruins and +uninhabited. They found only one house in ruins, and the governor of +the town said as follows about it: "A merchant once established in this +dwelling. He died and left much wealth. As none of his heirs came +forward, we closed the doors with stones and mortar, waiting for them +to arrive. So the house has fallen to ruin." + +Then the people took a little earth from beneath the house and took it +to the King, telling him what had happened. Then the King called an +assembly and said: + +"Know all that my illness proceeded only from my fear that there might +be in my kingdom a house in ruins. Now that it has been shown to me +that there exists in my whole realm not a single place in ruins, but +that the country is well populated, my malady is cured, seeing that my +kingdom is in a perfect condition." + +In the time of Nouchirvau a man sold his compound to another man. The +buyer of this property, while engaged in making repairs, found in the +earth many jars filled with gold which someone had buried there. He +went immediately to the one who sold him the premises and told him the +news. The seller said: + +"That gold is not mine, for I did not put it in the ground. I sold you +the compound; the discovery that you have made is yours." + +The buyer replied: "I bought the premises alone, I did not buy gold; +so it is yours." As each refused to take the treasure, they went to the +King Nouchirvau and recounted the affair to him, saying, "This gold +should be the property of the King." But King Nouchirvau would not take +the gold. He asked the two men if they had children. They replied, +"Yes, my lord, we have each a child, a boy and a girl." + +"Well," said the King, "marry the girl to the boy, and give them the +gold you found." + +In ancient times a King of China fell ill and as a result of his malady +he lost his hearing. He wept in sorrow over this affliction and grew +very thin and pale. His ministers came one day and asked him to tell +them in writing his condition. He answered: "I am not ill, but so +weakened by my inquietude and distress that I can no longer hear the +words of my subjects when they come to make their complaints. I know +not how to act not to be guilty of negligence in the government of my +kingdom." + +The ministers then said: "If the ears of your Majesty do not hear, our +ears shall replace those of the King, and we can carry to his Majesty +the complaints and regrets of his subjects. Why, then, should his +Majesty be so much disturbed over the weakening of his physical +forces?" + +The King of China answered: "At the day of judgment it is I, and not my +ministers, who will have to render account of the affairs of my +subjects. I must therefore myself examine into their complaints and +troubles. I am sure that the burden of ruling would be lighter for me +if I could have tranquillity of spirit. But my eyes can see, although +my ears are deaf." + +And he commanded them to publish this edict: "All who are victims of +injustice must reduce their complaints to writing, and bring them to +the King so that he may look into their troubles." + +They tell also the following story: There was formerly in the city of +Ispahan, a king whose power and glory had filled him with pride. He +commanded his ministers to build him a palace in a certain place. The +ministers, with the architects, ordered the slaves to level the ground +so as to form a vast esplanade and cause to disappear all the houses of +the neighborhood. Among these houses, they say, there was one belonging +to an old woman who was very poor and without a family to help her. In +spite of her great age, she went to work as well as she could, in +different places, but could scarcely exist on her earnings. Her house +near the site selected for the new palace was old and in a tumble-down +condition. They tell that one day having gone a long distance to find +work she fell ill and remained a long time without being able to return +to her house. Then the architects who were building the palace said, +"We must not let this hovel remain standing so near the King's palace." +So they razed the hut and levelled the earth, and finished the palace +with all sorts of embellishments. The King, taking possession, gave a +grand house-warming festival. + +Now on this very day it so happened that the old woman returned home. +Arriving she could find no traces of her house, and was stupefied. In +one hand she held a stick, in the other some dry wood for her fire. On +her back she bore a package of rice and herbs for cooking. She was +fatigued with a long journey and faint with hunger. When she saw that +her house had disappeared she knew not what to do nor where to go. She +burst into tears. The servants of the King drove her away, and as she +went, she fell and spilled her rice and herbs and fell down in the mud. +In this state of indescribable desolation she exclaimed, "O Lord, +avenge me on these tyrants!" + +The old woman had hardly ceased speaking when the voice of some unseen +being was heard above her saying, "O woman, fly quickly from this spot, +for the anger of God is advancing upon the King." In horror she got up +and fled in all haste. Again she heard the voice saying, "O woman, look +behind you at the palace." She looked behind her and saw the palace, +the King, and all his ministers and servants engulfed in the bowels of +the earth by the will of God. And to this day that place vomits fire +and smoke as a mark and a warning. + +In the Kitab Tarykh it is told that in ancient times under the kings of +Persia named Moah, who followed the rules of justice, men were happy. +But after these kings, Izdegherd-ibn-Chahryar reigned over Persia. By +his harsh tyranny he destroyed the high reputation of the kings of +Persia and wretchedly closed a series of reigns lasting 4,000 years and +noted all over the world for justice and equity. Under the rule of this +miserable tyrant countless numbers of men perished and a great many +prosperous and famous cities were devastated. All the better classes of +citizens were plunged into the most frightful distress and the most +lamentable desolation, and it would be impossible to tell how great and +wide-spread was the mourning. Now while all were groaning in affliction +the King made merry. + +One day in his presumptuous pride he assembled his ministers and his +generals to show his royal power and his domination over the people. He +was seated on his throne, surrounded by a crowd of courtiers, when +suddenly a beautiful horse crossing the city at a gallop went straight +into the palace of the King, among the ministers and the grandees. They +all admired the beautiful horse, the like of which none had ever seen. +Nobody dared to seize him as he pranced from right to left. Suddenly +the horse approached the throne and laid down at the feet of the King. +The King patted and stroked him, and the horse never moved. Then the +wicked King began to laugh and said: "O my ministers, you see how far +my greatness goes. It is only at my throne that this wonderful horse +has stopped. I will mount and ride him on the esplanade." The King +ordered a saddle brought, and was placing it on the horse with his own +hands, when he received such a kick over the heart that he was +immediately killed. Then the wonderful horse vanished, and no one saw +where it went. The people all rejoiced and said, "Of a truth, this +mysterious horse was one of the angels of God sent to exterminate a +tyrant." + +It was in the time of this King, and by his tyranny, that the kingdom +of the sovereign of Persia was ruled and fell into the hands of another +people. King Khochtacab, the most celebrated of all the kings of his +time, by his power, greatness, and magnificence, had raised in rank a +man named Rassat Rouchin, a name which in Persia signifies "sincere and +brilliant." Influenced by this fine name, the King forgot all prudence, +and without any proof of his capacity he raised this man to power and +made him minister, turning over to him the care of the most important +affairs in his kingdom and giving him all his confidence. His +ostensible conduct was irreproachable, and his acts had for everybody +the appearance of honesty and truth. One day the minister Rassat +Rouchin said to the King: "The people, on account of our leniency and +goodness, are forgetting their duty, and are showing no more deference +nor respect We must inspire them with fear, or affairs will not +prosper." + +The King in his blind confidence responded, "Do whatever you think is +right." As soon as the minister had come from the palace of the King he +addressed a proclamation to the towns and villages in which he said: +"His Majesty is irritated with his subjects. You must all come with +presents to appease his anger." From all sides arrived princes and +ministers and grandees of the realm, with precious and magnificent +objects. Seized with fear they sought counsel of the minister Rassat +Rouchin. + +"How," said they, "dare we present ourselves before his Majesty in his +present state of anger against us?" + +Then the minister responded: "If the instant of death is not yet come +for you, I will try to save you. I tremble to admit you to the King. +But what can I do? On account of the critical situation I will go alone +before the King and present your case." So every day he conducted them +only as far as the door of the King. There they were told of the fines +to which they had been condemned. He took in this way what they had, +and sent them home. + +This sort of thing continued for a long while until the means of the +people were exhausted and the treasury became absolutely empty. The +King, always full of confidence in the uprightness of the minister, was +in complete ignorance of all this. But at that time there was a king +who was an enemy of King Khochtacab. When he learned that the subjects +of the latter were suffering cruelly from the oppression of his +minister and that his generals were weakened by hunger, he took heart +and invaded the kingdom. Then King Khochtacab commanded that his +treasury should be opened, and that they should take out all the wealth +to gratify the army, gain the hearts of the generals, and defray the +expenses of the war. But he found that there was nothing left in the +treasury. The army, weakened, was incapable of resisting. The King, +shut up in his fort, found it impossible to attack the enemy, and they +ravaged and despoiled the kingdom. + +The King, having been considered so great, was cruelly wounded by shame +at his defeat. He knew not which way to turn his steps. His soul was +profoundly troubled. One day, when he had gone forth from the city, +wandering at random through plain and forest, he saw a shepherd's hut +in the distance, at the door of which were two dogs hanging by the +neck. Seeing the King, the shepherd approached and led him to his hovel +and served him with the best food he could afford. But the King said: + +"I shall not eat until you have told me why you have hanged these two +dogs at your cabin-door." + +The shepherd responded: "O king of the world, I hanged these two dogs +because they betrayed my flock. As my flock was wasting away, I hid one +day to see what took place. The wolf came and the dogs played with him +and let him carry off sheep and goats. So I hanged the two dogs as +faithless traitors." + +The King returned to the city and thought over this singular story. "It +is a lesson for me," he said, "a revelation. It is impossible not to +see that my subjects are the flock and I am the shepherd, while my +minister has acted like the shepherd's dogs, and the enemy who has my +kingdom is the wolf. I must examine into the conduct of my minister and +see with what fidelity he has served me." + +When he had returned to the palace he called his secretaries and bade +them bring the registers in which the accounts of the kingdom were +kept. When these registers were opened he saw that they mentioned only +the name of the minister Rassat Rouchin, and included such statements +as: "Intercession of Rassat Rouchin in favor of princes so and so, +ministers such and such, and grandees this and that, who ask pardon for +their faults. Rassat Rouchin took their treasures and granted them +grace." There was nothing else in the registers. When the King saw this +he said: + + "Who rests his faith upon a name goes often without bread, + While he who faithless proves for bread shall lose his soul +instead." + +These words the King had engraved in letters of gold and fastened to +the gate. And at this gate he had the false minister hanged as the dogs +were hanged at the cabin-door. + +A King of Persia, in a fit of anger against his wife for a certain +fault which she had committed, commanded his prime minister to put her +to death, together with her nursing infant. The minister, on account of +the furious anger of the King, did not dare to plead the Queen's cause, +but took her to his mother's house. The minister found another woman +who had been condemned to death and had her executed, telling the King +that it was the Queen who was beheaded. The King's child grew and +nourished until he had become a handsome young man. But the King grew +more and more morose and melancholy, and shut himself up in the palace. +The minister, noticing this continual sadness of the King, said: + +"O king of the world, what has come over the heart of your Majesty? +Pray tell me the cause of your sorrow." + +And the King said: "O minister, how should I not be sad and disturbed? +Here I am getting old and I have no son to cause my name to live and +protect my kingdom. That is the cause of my sorrow and unhappiness." + +When the minister heard these words he said, "O king of the world, your +sorrow shall not long endure, for you have a son, capable of preserving +and protecting your kingdom. This son of yours has intelligence, +education, natural gifts, and great personal beauty, and is of most +excellent character." + +The King said, "Where is this son of whose existence I have been +unaware?" + +The minister answered, "Your Majesty is not aware of his existence, but +I know that he is very much alive." The minister then related how he +had spared the lives of the Queen and her child. The King was +transported with joy, and cried, "Happy the king who has such a +minister!" + +The minister bowed low and said, "When shall your son, the prince, +present himself?" + +The King answered: "Go seek forty young men of his age, build, figure, +and complexion. Have them all dressed alike. Bring these forty young +men with my son to a certain place in the plain. Await me there, but +tell not this secret to a soul. When I have arrived at the spot then +cause these forty young men to present themselves before me. If my son +is among them I shall most certainly recognize him." + +The minister took leave of the King, and with a heart filled with joy +set about doing what the King had ordered. When the King had arrived at +the spot chosen his minister advanced, followed by forty-one youths, +all dressed alike. As soon as the King had seen them he recognized his +son and called him to his side. Then he went back to the city with him +and all the grandees. The next day he invited the latter to a great +festival, and gave to each of them a splendid present. He turned over +his kingdom to his son, taking care to place him and his government +under the tutelage of the good minister who had saved his wife and +brought him up. Then the King went into a religious retreat, and as +long as he lived occupied himself in the service of God. + +The Sultan Alexander, called the Two-Horned, at the beginning of his +reign sent an ambassador to King Darius, who was then at the zenith of +his greatness. On his return, this ambassador made his report to King +Alexander. The latter read it, but had doubts over a certain word +therein contained. He questioned his ambassador about the word, saying, +"Did you hear that exact word from the mouth of King Darius?" + +The ambassador replied, "I heard it with my own ears." + +King Alexander, not being able to believe it, wrote a second letter, +mentioning this word, and despatched to King Darius another ambassador, +charged to deliver it. When King Darius, reading the letter of King +Alexander, came to this special word, he took a knife and cut it out, +then wrote a letter to King Alexander, in which he said: "The sincerity +of the soul of the King is the foundation of his realm and his +greatness. His words, therefore, should be faithfully transmitted and +reproduced by his ambassador. I have cut out of your letter a certain +word, because it was never pronounced by me. And if your former +ambassador were only here I would cut out his lying tongue even as I +have cut out the word from your letter." + +When this answer of King Darius's was borne to King Alexander he read +it and summoned before him the faithless ambassador. "Why," said he, +"were you willing, with a word, to cause the loss of many men and +countries?" + +"Because they showed me little deference and did not treat me well." + +King Alexander said: "Foolish man! And you thought that we sent you to +look after your own personal interests, and neglect those of the +nation?" He commanded that his tongue should be torn out, and made a +proclamation, saying, "This is the fate of traitors who falsely report +the words of kings." + +In the Kitab Tarykh the following is recounted: The Sultan Homayoun +sent an ambassador to the King of Khorassan. When this ambassador, on +his arrival in the country, had delivered the letter of the Sultan to +the King, the latter asked: + +"How does your King conduct himself regarding his subjects? How does he +govern them?" + +"The rule of conduct and the mode of government used by my King," +answered the ambassador, "are to make himself loved by all his +subjects." + +The King asked, "Of what nature is the affection of your King for his +subjects?" + +"That of a mother and father for their children and grandchildren." + +"In hard and calamitous times, how does your King conduct himself?" + +"He shows that he cares not for riches, for the door of his treasury is +always open." + +"In the daily receptions how does your King behave?" + +"The receptions of my King resemble the gardens of Paradise refreshed +by sweet breezes and scented with the balmy breath of sweetly smelling +plants or like a sea filled with pearls and corals." + +The King asked again, "And in council how speaks your King?" + +The ambassador answered, "All those who hear my King in council become +wise if they lack wisdom, and brave if they lack courage." + +The King of Khorassan was enchanted with the answers of the ambassador, +loaded him with presents, and said to him: "The spirit and judgment of +your King are reflected in the person of his ambassador. They should +all be like you." And he addressed in answer to the Sultan a letter +filled with compliments and felicitations. + +In the Kitab Tarykh it is related that the Sultan Mahmoud was fond of +his servant Ayaz on account of the excellence of his wit and judgment. +The other servants of the Sultan were jealous of Ayaz, and murmured +against him. One day the ministers and grandees were in the presence of +the Sultan Mahmoud, and Ayaz was standing respectfully before him. +Someone brought a cucumber as a present to the Sultan. The Sultan +sliced it and ate a morsel. He found it very bitter, but gave no sign +of this. He handed a piece of it to Ayaz, saying, "Eat some of this +cucumber and tell me how it tastes, so that the others present may eat +some of it also, and tell us if they ever ate anything like it." Ayaz +saluted, and ate of the cucumber with an appearance of pleasure. + +"It is very good." + +The King made the others eat of it. They found that it was bitter, and +were angry with Ayaz, and asked how he dare to lie in such a manner. + +"It is true," said the Sultan; "how could you say it was good?" + +Ayaz answered with respect: "May the Lord bless the king of the world! +How many favors have you given me! How many sweet and savory dainties! +How, then, could I make a wry face over one bitter morsel? I ought, on +the contrary, to declare that the bitterness of this mouthful is +completely annulled by the delicious sweetness of the others, so that +your Majesty shall continue to bestow dainties upon me as before." + +A certain king, vain of his royal power, had a servant who was very +pious and a true believer, very punctilious in the practice of his +religious duties. The King distinguished him above all the others as +one in whom he could trust on account of the integrity of his heart. He +had given him this order: "Go not far away from here, day or night. +Keep close watch, and neglect not my service." The servant, after +finishing his religious duties, took his post, where the King from time +to time sent for him. But the King had need of him, and he was not to +be found. They sent to look for him, but in vain, and the King grew +very angry with him. Finally the servant arrived and prostrated himself +before the King. The latter, full of wrath, demanded: + +"Why are you late? Why don't you pay attention to my orders?" And he +commanded that the man be punished, to make him more attentive to the +King's service. + +But the servant replied, "If I am late, it is only on account of the +great embarrassment in which I find myself placed." + +"What embarrassment? Tell me." + +The servant, bowing low, spoke as follows: "My embarrassment comes from +the fact that I have two masters to serve. The first is the true +Master, he who created the universe and the children of Adam, whose +punishments are very severe. The second is only the servant of the +former, and not the true master. I am obliged to attend to the service +of the true Master before the service of the second. That is the +embarrassment in which I find myself." + +When the King heard these words he shed abundant tears, and said: "From +this day forth you are free. Follow the service of the Lord, and do not +forget to pray for me." + +The servants of the King should love their King more than they love +their own life, their mother, their father, their children, their +grandchildren, their family, their riches, and all that belongs to +them. In a word, for them the person of their King should be above all, +so that one may call them true servants of the King, and that in all +truth they may be termed his favorites. They tell the story that one +day the Sultan Mahmoud Ghazi (may grace be upon him!) was seated on his +throne, surrounded by his ministers and his officers, among whom was +Ayaz. The Sultan said to his treasurer: + +"Go to the treasure-chamber. Take to a certain place gold, silver, +precious stones, and other objects of great value. For we are going +there to amuse ourselves, and present these treasures to those who +shall accompany us." + +One day the Sultan started to go and amuse himself at that place, and +as soon as the news spread abroad, a great number of people followed +him there. When he arrived he halted at a spot level, clean, and well +lighted, and said to his treasurer: + +"Expose my treasures here, in this place, so that all those who are +happy shall obtain a present according to their degree of happiness, +and that one may know who are those who have the most luck and those +who have the least." + +All hearing these words quickly approached, pressing forward, with +their eyes wide open and their looks fixed on the treasurer, praying +him to exhibit the presents at the designated place. At this very +moment the Sultan spurred his horse to a gallop and rode from their +presence. When he was far away and out of their sight, he stopped and +looked behind him. There he saw Ayaz, the only one who had followed +him. The others, preoccupied with getting their share of the treasures, +never suspected that the Sultan had gone and was already far away from +them. The Sultan, halting a moment, returned to the city. + +On their side, the ministers and the grandees, having taken possession +of the most precious objects, returned joyfully to their homes. On the +way they compared notes with each other about their shares of the +treasure. One said, "I had the best luck"; and another, "No, I had the +best." And all, whoever they were, said the same thing, for all except +Ayaz had their share of the King's presents. So they said among +themselves, "It is clear that the one who has no luck is Ayaz." + +Some jealous ones added: "In truth, Master Ayaz has no luck at all. By +his lack of intelligence and good judgment he has had none of the +Sultan's presents." + +Ayaz heard all these remarks, but kept silence. Some days later, the +Sultan came out of his palace and sat upon the throne. All the grandees +came into his presence. Ayaz was standing before him. The Sultan asked: + +"Who among you had no luck?" + +The ministers answered: "It is Ayaz! He did not get a single one of +your Majesty's many presents. It is clear that he has no luck, for he +left all those precious objects and came back with empty hands." + +The Sultan said: "O Ayaz, are our presents without value in your eyes, +that you disdain them? I don't know why you took nothing that was +within your grasp. You would have prevented them from saying that you +have no luck. What was your motive in doing a thing that has the +approbation of nobody?" + +Ayaz responded: "May the days and prosperity of the King increase! May +the presents never tarnish that he has given to his servants. As for +me, I have more luck than those who received the presents of your +Majesty." + +The Sultan said, "O Ayaz, prove to me the truth of your words." + +Ayaz responded: "If they found some part in the largesses which were +given them, I found the author himself of those great gifts. If they +found gold, I found the master of the gold. If others found silver, I +found the master of silver. If others found precious stones, I found +the master of precious stones. If others yet found some pearls, I found +the ocean of pearls. Who, therefore, O king of the world, among all +those who vaunt themselves as having luck, has more than I have?" + +The Sultan replied: "O Ayaz, tell me what is the meaning of your words. +Where is all that which you say you found?" + +Ayaz responded: "May the most high protect the person of the king of +the world, more precious to me than all those objects of price! In +whatever place may be his august person, there I am, and I thus obtain +all that my heart desires. When I am with your Majesty, and your +Majesty is with me, what do I lack? Who, then, has more luck than I +have?" + +One day the Sultan Alexander was plunged in sadness, and kept himself +shut up in his palace. The wise Aristotle came before him, and seeing +him absorbed in sad thoughts, asked him: + +"Why is the Sultan so sad and what keeps him from going out of his +palace?" + +The Sultan Alexander answered: "I am grieving at the thought of the +smallness of this world, and of all the troubles I am giving myself and +others for the sake of reigning over a world that is so little worth. +It is the vanity of my works that renders me sad." + +Aristotle replied: "The reflection of the Sultan is just, for what, in +truth, is the world? Certainly it has not enough importance by itself +that the Sultan should occupy himself with a vain kingdom. But the +government of this world is a mark of the sublime and eternal kingdom +of the other world, and this kingdom the Sultan can obtain by governing +this present world with justice. Your Majesty must therefore give all +his cares to the government of this world, to obtain finally in the +other world a kingdom of which the greatness is beyond measure and the +duration is eternal." + +The Sultan Alexander heard with pleasure the words of his wise +counsellor. + +Two qualities are essential to kings, generosity and magnanimity. When +a minister remarks, in his king, sentiments unworthy of his rank, he +should warn him of the fact, and should turn him from unworthy actions. +They tell that a king, having made a gift of 500 dirhems, his minister +said to him: "I have heard from the mouth of wise men that it is not +permitted to kings to make a present of less than 1,000 dirhems!" + +One day Haroun-er-Raschid made a gift of 500 tahil. His minister, named +Yahya, made by signs and by gestures every effort to prevent him from +doing this. When all those who had been present were gone, Haroun-er- +Raschid said: + +"O Yahya! what were you trying to do with all your signs?" + +The latter replied: "O prince of true believers! I was trying to say +that kings should never let it be seen that they are capable of making +presents of less than 1,000 dirhems." + +One day King Mamoun-er-Raschid heard his minister, named Abbas, say to +a servant, "Go to the bazaar and buy something with this half-tahil." + +Mamoun-er-Raschid was angry with him and said: "You are capable of +dividing a tahil in two! That is not proper in a minister; you are not +worthy of the name," and he forthwith deposed him from office. + +In the Kitab Sifat-el-Molouk it is related that the King Chabour, +giving his last instructions to his son, said as follows: "O my son! +whenever you make a present to anyone, do not bestow it with your own +hands. Do not even examine or have brought into your own presence the +gifts that you make. Whenever you give a present, see that it be at +least the equivalent of the revenue of a town in value, so that it will +enrich the recipients, and make them and their children and +grandchildren free from adversity. Furthermore, my child, beware all +your life of giving yourself up to operations of commerce in your +kingdom. For this kind of affairs is unworthy a king who has greatness +of character, prosperity, and birth." + +King Harmuz received one day a letter from his minister in which he +said: "Many merchants being in town with a great quantity of jewels, +pearls, hyacinths, rubies, diamonds, and other precious stones, I +bought all they had for your Majesty, paying 200,000 tahil. Immediately +afterward there arrived some merchants from another country who wanted +to buy these and offered me a profit of 200,000 tahil. If the King +consents I will sell the jewels, and later buy others." + +King Harmuz wrote to his minister the following response: "What are +200,000 tahil? What are 400,000 tahil, profit included? Is that worth +talking about and making so much ado? If you are going into the +operations of commerce who will look after the government? If you buy +and sell, what will become of the merchants? It is evident that you +would destroy thus our good renown, and that you are the enemy of the +merchants of our kingdom, for your designs would ruin them. Your +sentiments are unworthy a minister." And for this he removed him from +office. + +In the Kitab Sifat-el-Houkama it is said: "There is a great diversity +of inclinations among men. Everyone has his own propensity. One is +borne naturally toward riches, another toward patience and resignation, +another toward study and good works. And in this world the humors of +men are so varied that they all differ in nature. Among this infinite +variety of dispositions of soul, that which best suits kings and +ministers is greatness of character, for that quality is the ornament +of royalty. + +"One day the minister of the Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid was returning +from the council of state to his house when he was approached by a +beggar who said: 'O Yahya! misery brings me to you. I pray you give me +something.' + +"When Yahya had arrived at his house he made the beggar sit down at the +door, and calling an attendant said to him: 'Every day give this man +1,000 dinars, and for his food give him his part in the provisions +consumed in your house.' + +"They say that for a month the beggar came every day and sat at Yahya's +door, and received the sum of 1,000 dinars. When he had received them +at the end of the month, 30,000 dinars, the beggar went away. When +informed of his departure, Yahya said: 'By the Lord! if he had not gone +away, and had come to my door for the rest of his life, I should have +given him the same daily ration.'" + +In the Kitab Tarykh the following is told: "There was once upon a time +a Persian king named Khrosrou, remarkable among all the kings of Persia +for his power, his greatness of character, his goodness, and the purity +of his morals. His wife, named Chirine, was of a rare beauty, and no +one at that time could be compared to her, for she possessed all the +virtues. Khrosrou passionately loved Chirine, and among the books, +famous in the world, which speak of loving couples, there is one called +'Khrosrou and Chirine.' One day Khrosrou was seated in the palace with +his wife Chirine, when a fisherman brought in a fine fish as a present +to Khrosrou. The latter ordered them to give him a present of 4,000 +dirhems. + +"'You are wrong,' said Chirine. + +"'And why?' asked the King. + +"'If, in the future, you made one of your servants a present of 4,000 +dirhems he will not fail to say forthwith, "I am considered as the +equal of a fisherman." If your present is less than 4,000 dirhems, then +necessarily he will say, "I am considered as being less than a +fisherman," and your actions will sadden his heart.'" + +"Khrosrou said: 'Your observation is just. But I have spoken, and I +cannot reverse what I have said, for it is shameful for a king to fail +in keeping his word.' + +"Chirine replied, 'Never mind, I know a way, and no one can say that +you broke your promise.' + +"'What is this way?' asked Khrosrou. + +"Chirine answered: 'Put this question to the fisherman, "Is this a +fresh-water or a salt-water fish?" + +"'If he answers, "It is a fresh-water fish," say, "I want a salt-water +one," and the contrary. Then he will go away and you will be released +from your foolish promise.'" + +"Khrosrou, who by love of Chirine could not help hearing her advice and +following it, put the question to the fisherman. But the latter, +suspecting a trap, said, 'It is both.' King Khrosrou began to laugh, +and gave him 4,000 dirhems in addition. + +"The fisherman, having received his 8,000 dirhems, put them in a sack +and went away. On the journey, a dirhem fell to the ground, and the +fisherman, lowering his sack, began to search for the dirhem that had +fallen. When he found it, he placed it with the others and took up his +march again. + +"Khrosrou and Chirine had both been witnesses of his action. Chirine +said to Khrosrou: 'Behold the baseness and the lack of judgment of the +fisherman. He wearied himself to hunt for one dirhem when he had a sack +full of them. Recall him and do him shame.' + +"Khrosrou, who from his love for Chirine was incapable of resisting her +words, and always obeyed them, recalled the fisherman and said to him: +'Of a truth, you have a low soul, and possess neither judgment nor +dignity. What! One of your 8,000 dirhems was lost and you deferred your +journey until you had found it? That shows the baseness of your soul +and your lack of judgment.' + +"The fisherman made obeisance and answered: 'May the prosperity of the +king of the world increase! I sought not the dirhem on account of its +money value, but only on account of the greatness and importance of the +words engraved upon the coin. On one of its sides is written the name +of God most high. On the other side is written the name of the King. +Had I not found the dirhem, and had left it on the ground, then people +passing would have trodden upon it, and the two names inscribed upon +it, and which ought to be glorified by all men, would have been +despised and disgraced, and I would have been the accomplice of all the +passers-by who trod upon it. That is why I took the trouble to find the +dirhem.' + +"Khrosrou was pleased with this answer and gave him still another 4,000 +dirhems. The fisherman, filled with joy, took his 12,000 dirhems and +returned to his home." + +A man had committed a serious offence against King Haroun-er-Raschid. +Condemned to death, he succeeded in escaping. But he had a brother. The +King summoned the latter and said to him: "Find your brother so that I +may kill him. If you do not find him I will kill you in his place." +This man not finding his brother, the King Haroun-er-Raschid ordered +one of his servants to bring him to be killed. But this servant said: +"O prince of believers! if the one who received the command to put this +man to death brings him for that purpose and at the same time a +messenger comes from your Majesty with an order not to kill him, ought +he not to release him?" + +King Haroun-er-Raschid answered, "He certainly ought to release him, on +account of my orders." + +"O prince of believers," answered the servant, "the Koran says, 'He who +has a burden shall not bear another's.'" + +Then the King said: "Set the man free, for this must cover his case, +and means that the innocent should not perish for the guilty." + +They tell that, a pundit appearing one day before the Sultan Ismail +Samani, King of the country of Khorassan, the Sultan received him with +great distinction, and at his departure saluted him most respectfully +and escorted him to the door, taking seven steps behind him. + +The next night he dreamed that the glorious prophet (with whom be +peace!) spoke thus to him: "O Ismail, because you honored one of my +pundits, I will pray God that after you seven of your children and +grandchildren shall become great and glorious kings." They say that for +many years the kingdom of Khorassan flourished under the paternal +government of the successors of this Sultan. + +The Sultan Abdallah Tlahir, as soon as he had taken possession of the +throne of Khorassan, received the homage of a large number of his +subjects. At the end of several days he asked, "Is there anyone of +distinction in the country who has not come to present himself before +me?" They told him, "There are two persons that have not come, one +named Ahmed Arab, and the other named Mahomet Islam. But these two men +never present themselves before kings and ministers." + +The Sultan replied, "Since they will not come to find kings and +ministers, I must go to them." So one day the Sultan repaired to the +house of Ahmed Arab. The latter, immediately arising, remained standing +a long time facing the Sultan. Then regarding him fixedly he said to +him: "O Sultan, I had heard tell of your beauty, and I now see that +they spoke the truth. Make not of that body the embers of hell." +Saying this he returned to his prayers. The Sultan Abdallah Tlahir went +away from the sheik's house weeping. + +He then betook himself to the house of Mahomet Islam. At the news that +the Sultan was coming to see him, the sheik shut the door of his house, +saying: "I ought not to see him. I ought not to speak to him." + +The Sultan departed in tears and said: "Friday, when the sheik goes to +the mosque I will go to him." + +When Friday came he was on horseback, surrounded by soldiers, awaiting +the arrival of the sheik. As soon as he perceived him, he dismounted, +approached him on foot, and saluted him. The sheik asked: "Who are you? +What do you want of me?" + +The Sultan answered: "It is I, Abdallah Tlahir. I have come to see the +sheik." + +The latter, turning away his face, said to the Sultan, "What connection +is there between you and me?" + +The Sultan fell at the feet of the sheik, in tears, in the middle of +the highway, and, invoking God the most high, spoke as follows, "O +Lord, forgive my faults, on account of the many virtues of this +faithful sheik." And he was forgiven and became a good man. + +The imam El-Chafei (may mercy be with him!), going from the city of +Jerusalem to the country of Egypt, halted in a town called Ramla. One +of the inhabitants of this town took him into his house and entertained +him with many attentions. The companions of the imam El-Chafei +perceived that he felt a certain inquietude, but none of them knew the +reason for it. The more the master of the house showered his attentions +and civilities, the more disturbed the imam seemed to be. Finally at +the moment when the imam was mounting his horse to continue his +journey, the master of the house arrived and put a writing into his +hands. On reading this, the imam lost his worried air, and, giving +orders to pay the man thirty dinars, he went on his way rejoicing. One +of his companions asked him: + +"Why were you so disturbed? What did the writing say? And why did you +show so much joy in reading it?" + +The imam El-Chafei answered: "When our host took us to his house I +noticed that his face lacked the characteristic signs of honesty. But +as he treated us so well I began to think perhaps I was mistaken in +judging him. But when I read the writing he handed me I saw it was as +follows: 'While the imam has been here I have spent on him ten dinars. +He ought therefore to pay me back twenty.' So then I knew that I had +made no error in reading his character, and was pleased at my skill." + +The story is told that one day as the prophet Solomon was seated on his +royal throne, surrounded by men, spirits, and birds, two women came +before him, each claiming possession of a child. These two women kept +saying, "It is my child," but neither could give proof. All their +arguments amounting to nothing, the prophet Solomon commanded that the +child should be cut in two, and that each woman should take half. When +the executioner advanced, drawing his sword, one of the women bursting +into sobs cried out in anguish: "O Prophet Solomon, don't kill the +child. Give it to this woman, it is all I ask!" + +As the murder of the child never drew a tear nor a movement of anxiety +from the other woman, Solomon commanded them to give it to the woman +who had wept, because her tears proved her to be the true mother, and +that the child belonged to her, and not to the other woman. Thus did +King Solomon show his wisdom in judging character. + +O you who are magnificent! listen, I pray you, and hear to what degree +of sublimity generosity is lifted. In the Kitab Adab-is-Selathin it is +said that two qualities were given by God in all their perfection to +two men--justice to Sultan Nouchirvau, King of Persia, and generosity +to a subject of an Arab sultan named Hatim-Thai. The author of that +work says that in the time of Hatim-Thai there were three kings +celebrated throughout the whole world, and rivals in showing the +perfection of generosity--the King of Roum, the King of Syria, and the +King of Yemen. But as none of them was as famous as Hatim-Thai, they +became jealous of him and united in hostility toward him. They said: +"We are the kings of vast countries, and shall we suffer a simple +subject of an Arab sultan to be counted as more generous than we are?" +And each of these kings thought to try Hatim-Thai and destroy him. + +The first of the three who attempted the undertaking was the King of +Roum. This King said to one of his ministers: "O minister, I hear tell +that there is among the Arabs a man named Hatim-Thai, and that he is +reputed the most generous man in the world. I am displeased that my +name is not as noted for generosity as his. I want to make a proof and +see if his fame is true or false. I have heard that Hatim-Thai +possesses a horse which he loves as he does his own soul. Well, we will +ask him to give us this beloved horse." + +The minister sent an envoy, with suitable presents and a letter to give +to Hatim-Thai. He arrived in a great storm of wind and rain which +permitted no one to attend to his affairs abroad. It was already night, +and Hatim-Thai had made no preparations to receive a guest, but he +received the stranger with the marks of the highest respect and +greatest cordiality. + +"What need brings you here to-night?" he asked. + +"Nothing but to visit you," replied the envoy, and he never mentioned +that evening his mission from the King of Roum. + +As there was nothing in the house to eat, Hatim-Thai killed his +favorite horse and served it for his guest's supper. As soon as it was +day, the envoy presented the gifts and the letter from the King of +Roum. When he read the passage in the letter where the King asked for +the horse which had just been killed, Hatim-Thai turned pale and could +not say a word. The envoy, observing him in this state, imagined that +he regretted the gift of his horse, and said: + +"O Hatim-Thai, if it is not with pleasure that you give your horse to +my master, think no more about it, and let me return to my country." + +Hatim-Thai answered: "O envoy of the King of Roum! if I had a thousand +horses like that one I should give them all without a moment's +hesitation. But last night I asked you the motive which brought you +hither, and you said it was merely to visit me. So I killed the horse +for your food, and that is why I am afflicted with sorrow at my lack of +foresight." He sent the envoy back home with many other horses as a +gift. + +The envoy told the whole story and the King of Roum said: "The renown +of Hatim-Thai is deserved; he is the most generous of men." He made an +alliance of friendship with him, and the fame of Hatim-Thai grew apace. + +The second one who tested Hatim-Thai's generosity was the King of +Syria. He said: "How can Hatim-Thai, who lives in the woods and the +plains, occupied in pasturing goats, camels, and horses, be more +generous than so great a King as I? I will put him to the proof. I will +ask rich presents that he cannot give, and he will be shamed and +humiliated before kings and peoples." + +So the King of Syria sent an envoy to Hatim-Thai to ask for 100 red +camels with long manes, black eyes, and very tall. Camels of this sort +are hard to find, only kings having four or five. When the envoy had +arrived he told Hatim-Thai what the King of Syria asked of him. Hatim- +Thai was full of joy hearing the words of the envoy, and hastened to +regale him bountifully with food and drink. Then he searched among his +camels, but found none such as the King of Syria desired. He ordered +search to be made among the peoples of his nation, Arabs and Bedouins, +offering a large price. By the will of God a Bedouin succeeded in +finding 100, and Hatim-Thai asked only the delay of one month in +payment. The envoy returned home with the red camels and many other +presents. Seeing them, the King of Syria was struck with astonishment +and cried: "Behold, we wished only to test Hatim-Thai, and now he has +gone into debt to satisfy our desire. Yes, truly he is the most +generous man in the world." + +He commanded them to send back to Hatim-Thai the 100 red camels loaded +with magnificent presents. As soon as they arrived, Hatim-Thai summoned +the owner and gave him the camels with all their burden of riches, +without keeping anything for himself. When the envoy, returning home +again, recounted all these things, the King of Syria marvelled and +exclaimed: "No one can equal Hatim-Thai. He is generosity itself, in +all its perfection." + +The third king, that is, the King of Yemen, was very generous, and +wanted no one to rival him in this particular. So when he heard of the +fame of Hatim-Thai for generosity, he was vexed and full of sorrow. He +said: "How can that poor Hatim equal in generosity a great king like +me? I give alms to the poor, I feed them, and every day I give them +clothing. How is it possible that anyone can dare to mention the name +of Hatim-Thai in my presence as the most generous of men?" + +Now, at that time an ambassador of the King of Maghreb arrived at the +Court of the King of Yemen, who spoke of the wonderful generosity of +Hatim-Thai. He felt as if his heart was burning, but did not let his +grief appear, and said to himself: + +"Everybody repeats the praises of Hatim, one after another, without +knowing exactly who he is, of what birth, and what are the means which +permit him thus to give hospitality. I shall cause him to perish." + +The King of Yemen summoned a Bedouin, a bandit celebrated for his +ferocity, without pity for the life of a man. The Bedouin arrived, and +the King gave him gold, silver, and clothing. "O Bedouin," he said to +him, "if you will perform an affair for us, we will give you whatever +you ask." + +The Bedouin answered: "O my lord, king of the world, what is your +Majesty's will?" + +The King of Yemen replied: "There is a man named Hatim-Thai, of the +tribe of Thai, on the confines of Syria. Go to this country, and employ +all the tricks you can to kill him. When you have killed him bring me +his head. If you succeed in doing as I wish, whatever you ask, it shall +be given you." + +These words of the King filled with joy the Bedouin's heart. He said to +himself: "Here is a good piece of work. For an old tattered cloak I +will kill a man. Why then should I hesitate a moment for a superb cloak +of scarlet?" + +Taking leave of the King, the Bedouin set out promptly and went toward +Syria in search of Hatim-Thai. After a while he arrived at a village +near to Syria, and there he met a young man of a rare beauty. His face +bore the marks of virtue, his language was full of sweetness and +affability, his soul was righteous, and his heart compassionate. He +asked the Bedouin where he was going. The latter answered, "I am from +the country of Yemen, and am going to Syria." + +The young man replied: "O my brother! I wish you would do me the favor +to rest for a day and a night in my house, and I will do the best to +entertain you. After that you shall go on your journey when you wish." + +The Bedouin heard these words with pleasure, and went into the young +man's house. There he was treated magnificently and regaled so lavishly +that he thought he had never seen and eaten so much. He slept +peacefully all night. At dawn he said farewell, eager to gain the end +of his journey. The young man said to him: "O my brother, if it is +possible, stay two or three days longer, I beg you, so that by my +hospitality I may show all the sincere affection that my heart feels +for you." + +The Bedouin replied: "O my brother, truly would I remain some time +longer here, had I not a most important and delicate mission to fulfil. +It is impossible for me to stay and enjoy myself here, while I have not +yet accomplished my errand." + +The young man answered: "O my brother, what is this difficult and +delicate affair which prevents you from staying here? If you will tell +me, doubtless I shall find some means of coming to your aid, and +lightening the burden which weighs so heavily upon your heart. But, +now, what can I do since you tell me nothing?" + +Hearing these words, the Bedouin kept silence. He said to himself: +"This affair is not easy to execute. It might be of use for me to have +a prudent and discreet companion to confer with him about it. Perhaps I +should do well to talk of it to this young man and ask his advice." + +And nevertheless he dared not yet trust his secret, and his perplexity +was written on his countenance. He could not utter a single word, and +remained very anxious. + +The young man observing the state of the Bedouin said to him: "O +servant of God, your embarrassment is evident; you fear to open your +heart to me. God alone, in truth, knows the secrets of his servants. +But, in your present situation, it may be that I can be of some benefit +to you." + +The Bedouin, hearing these words of the young man, said to him: "O my +loyal friend, know then that I am an Arab-Bedouin of the country of +Yemen; that of all the Bedouins of Arabia there is not one so wicked +nor so great a thief as I, and that my fame as a bandit is celebrated +throughout all Yemen. The King, having resolved upon a wicked deed, +ordered his minister to find a man capable of performing it. As I had +the reputation of being the greatest bandit of the country of Yemen, I +was summoned to the presence of the King. As soon as his Majesty saw me +he loaded me with presents and said: 'If you do as I wish I will give +you many more presents of gold and silver and other magnificent +things.' I replied, 'O my lord, king of the world, what is this +affair?' 'You must go and kill a man named Hatim-Thai, who lives on the +confines of Syria.' To this I replied: 'O my lord, king of the world, I +am only a Bedouin, a poor robber, wandering in the forests and the +plains. For drink I have but the brackish water of the marshes. For +food I have only rats and locusts.' On account of my wretchedness, I +obeyed the wishes of the King, and promised to execute this affair. But +here I am, in a very embarrassing situation, for I do not know this +Hatim-Thai, and I don't even know where his tribe is, the Ben-Thai." + +The young man, hearing these words, began to laugh, and said: "O my +brother, be not disturbed. I know this Hatim-Thai, and I will show him +to you." These words rejoiced the Bedouin. The young man continued: "O +my brother, know that the tribe of Ben-Thai inhabit this village, and +that the man named Hatim-Thai is himself in this tribe. If you will +follow exactly what I indicate to you, you will certainly accomplish +your mission." + +The Bedouin answered: "O my brother, I place my life in your hands. +What must be done?" + +The young man answered: "O my brother, there is a place where Hatim- +Thai goes for recreation. It is an extremely deserted place, which no +one ever visits. When he gets there he eats, drinks, and then he +sleeps, his head covered with a cloth, and his horse tied near by. You +will arrive at that moment, you will promptly execute the wish of the +King, you will jump upon the horse and dash away from this place and go +wherever you like." + +The young man went then to show the place to the Bedouin, and giving +him a poniard with two edges well sharpened, he said: "O my brother, +to-morrow Hatim-Thai will come to this spot. Forget nothing that you +have to do." + +All the instruction of the young man were followed by the Bedouin. +Early in the morning Hatim-Thai repaired to the designated place. He +ate, he drank, and when he had finished his repast he tied his horse +near by. Then, covering his head with a cloth, he fell fast asleep. At +this very moment the wicked Bedouin arrived. By the will of God, just +as he was about to assassinate the young man, a thought came into his +heart. "Hatim-Thai is celebrated throughout the whole world for his +generosity and his benevolence. Before I kill him, while he is still +alive, I want to see his face." And he raised the cloth that covered +his head. At the sight of the countenance of the sleeping young man he +fell at his feet and covered them with kisses, saying: "O my friend! +What have you done? You ought not to act thus!" + +Hearing these words of the Bedouin, the young man said: "What could I +do? For the one called Hatim-Thai is I. The head that the King of Yemen +wants is mine. What other means could I employ?" He conducted the +Bedouin to his house, regaled him again, and gave him all he needed. + +Then the Bedouin took leave and returned to his country. As soon as he +arrived in Yemen, he went before the King and recounted all the +circumstances relative to Hatim-Thai. + +Having heard the story the King shed tears, and said: "Of a truth, +Hatim-Thai is liberal, benevolent, and noble, brave and generous." +Afterward the King of Yemen made a friendship with Hatim-Thai that +lasted as long as his life. + +When the Sultan Yakoub invaded Khorassan and besieged the capital, the +Sultan Mahomet, shut up in the city, made such a strong resistance that +for a long time it was impossible to capture the place. But his +ministers betrayed him by sending to Sultan Yakoub letters which showed +how it might be taken. One only of these ministers, named Ibrahim +Hadjib, abstained from sending any traitorous letters, and remained +faithful to his master. After a while the city was taken and Sultan +Yakoub ascended the throne. Then all the most important people of the +country came to pay homage to him. The ministers who had betrayed the +former Sultan were conspicuous in their demonstrations of joy. The +Sultan Yakoub gave a pleasant reception to those who came, and made +them suitable gifts. + +After this he asked, "Who has not come to present himself before me on +this day of rejoicing?" + +The ministers immediately answered, "Ibrahim Hadjib is the only one who +has not come to present his congratulations." + +Then the Sultan asked, "Why has he not done so? Is he ill?" + +"No," they answered, "he is not ill." + +The Sultan summoned Ibrahim Hadjib, and the latter came into the royal +presence. The Sultan, observing on his countenance evident marks of +care and sorrow, spoke thus to him: "Ibrahim Hadjib, are you the +minister in whom the Sultan Mahomet placed his confidence?" He replied +in the affirmative. + +"From what motive, Ibrahim Hadjib, did you keep silence, and send me no +word of advice while the ministers of Sultan Mahomet, now here, sent +many letters to show me how to capture the city? Why did you refrain +from appearing before me at court to-day, at the same time with the +ministers and grandees? Why, now that you are here, are you the only +one to wear a sad and mournful appearance and a long face, while all +the others show their joy? To all these questions you must truthfully +respond. And if you speak not the truth you shall be put to death." + +"If the Sultan wishes to hear the language of truth and will not be +vexed by it, I will reply to each of his questions. To the first +question, why I sent no letter betraying my King, I will say: Know, +Sultan, that the Sultan Mahomet was the King of this country; that he +gave me many presents and had full confidence in me, thinking that in +the moment of danger I would be his companion and his counsellor. How +could I, then, betray him? I knew you not, and had received no benefits +from you. Would it have been just for me to send you letters and cause +the fall of one who had been so bountiful to me?" + +"Your words are just and true," said the Sultan Yakoub. + +Ibrahim Hadjib continued: "As to the question why I abstained from +presenting myself at court to-day, and why I wore so sorrowful a face, +I answer: Know that I could not present myself before the Sultan, +because he was the enemy of my master and benefactor, and brought about +the ruin of my lord. That is why I wore a sad face in your presence. +Beside, the children and grandchildren of my lord are plunged in grief +and anxiety, and how could I be happy in your presence, like these +hypocrites, who are very different elsewhere? I have told the truth." + +When the Sultan Yakoub had heard these words of Ibrahim Hadjib, he +cried: "God be praised! Up to this time I have heard tell of ministers, +I have seen many kinds, but never have I seen nor heard of a minister +like this one. Now, only for the first time have I seen a true minister +and listened to the words of truth." The Sultan Yakoub loaded Ibrahim +Hadjib with favors, made him prime minister, and gave him the name of +father. As for the other ministers, he caused them to perish, with +their whole families. Then he published this proclamation: + +"Behold the fate of those who are faithless to their promises and +commit treason toward their King, for they cannot be counted as men." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Malayan Literature, by Various Authors + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MALAYAN LITERATURE *** + +This file should be named 7095-8.txt or 7095-8.zip + +Produced by Eric Eldred, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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