{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_7095/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_7095","id":"gutenberg_7095","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/7095","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Poetry","Category: Romance","Malay literature -- Translations into English"],"text":"Produced by Eric Eldred, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks\nand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.\n\n\n\n\n\nMALAYAN LITERATURE\n\nComprising\n\nRomantic Tales, Epic Poetry\n\nAnd\n\nRoyal Chronicles\n\nTranslated Into English For The First Time\n\nWith A Special Introduction By\n\nCHAUNCEY C. STARKWEATHER, A.B., LL.B.\n\n\n\n\nSPECIAL INTRODUCTION\n\n\n\nEasily the most charming poem of Malayan Literature is the Epic of\nBidasari. It has all the absorbing fascination of a fairy tale. We are\nled into the dreamy atmosphere of haunted palace and beauteous\nplaisance: we glide in the picturesque imaginings of the oriental poet\nfrom the charm of all that is languorously seductive in nature into the\nshadowy realms of the supernatural. At one moment the sturdy bowman or\nlithe and agile lancer is before us in hurrying column, and at another\nwe are told of mystic sentinels from another world, of Djinns and\ndemons and spirit-princes. All seems shadowy, vague, mysterious,\nentrancing.\n\nIn this tale there is a wealth of imagery, a luxury of picturesqueness,\ntogether with that straightforward simplicity so alluring in the story-\nteller. Not only is our attention so captivated that we seem under a\nspell, but our sympathy is invoked and retained. We actually wince\nbefore the cruel blows of the wicked queen. And the hot tears of\nBidasari move us to living pity. In the poetic justice that punishes\nthe queen and rewards the heroine we take a childish delight. In other\nwords, the oriental poet is simple, sensuous, passionate, thus\nachieving Milton's ideal of poetic excellence. We hope that no\nphilosopher, philologist, or ethnologist will persist in demonstrating\nthe sun-myth or any other allegory from this beautiful poem. It is a\nstory, a charming tale, to while away an idle hour, and nothing more.\nAll lovers of the simple, the beautiful, the picturesque should say to\nsuch learned peepers and botanizers, \"Hands off!\" Let no learned\ntheories rule here. Leave this beautiful tale for artists and lovers of\nthe story pure and simple. Seek no more moral here than you would in a\nrose or a lily or a graceful palm. Light, love, color, beauty,\nsympathy, engaging fascination--these may be found alike by philosopher\nand winsome youth. The story is no more immoral than a drop of dew or a\nlotus bloom; and, as to interest, in the land of the improviser and the\nstory-teller one is obliged to be interesting. For there the audience\nis either spellbound, or quickly fades away and leaves the poet to\nrealize that he must attempt better things.\n\nWe think that these folk-stories have, indeed, a common origin, but\nthat it is in the human heart. We do not look for a Sigurd or Siegfried\non every page. Imagine a nation springing from an ignorant couple on a\nsea-girt isle, in a few generations they would have evolved their\nSleeping Beauty and their Prince Charming, their enchanted castles, and\ntheir Djinns and fairies. These are as indigenous to the human heart as\nthe cradle-song or the battle-cry. We do not find ourselves siding with\nthose who would trace everything to a first exemplar. Children have\nplayed, and men have loved, and poets have sung from the beginning, and\nwe need not run to Asia for the source of everything. Universal human\nnature has a certain spontaneity.\n\nThe translator has tried to reproduce the faithfulness and, in some\nmeasure, to indicate the graceful phrases of the original poem. The\nauthor of Bidasari is unknown, and the date of the poem is a matter of\nthe utmost uncertainty. Some have attributed to it a Javanese origin,\nbut upon very slight evidence. The best authorities place its scene in\nthe country of Palembang, and its time after the arrival of the\nEuropeans in the Indian archipelago, but suggest that the legend must\nbe much older than the poem.\n\nThe \"Makota Radja-Radja\" is one of the most remarkable books of\noriental literature. According to M. Aristide Marre, who translated it\ninto French, its date is 1603. Its author was Bokhari, and he lived at\nDjohore. It contains extracts from more than fifty Arab and Persian\nauthors. It treats of the duties of man to God, to himself and to\nsociety, and of the obligations of sovereigns, subjects, ministers, and\nofficers. Examples are taken from the lives of kings in Asia. The\nauthor has not the worst opinion of his work, saying distinctly that it\nis a complete guide to happiness in this world and the next. He is\nparticularly copious in his warnings to copyists and translators,\ncautioning them against the slightest negligence or inaccuracy, and\npromising them for faithfulness a passport to the glories of heaven.\nThis shows that the author at least took the work seriously. That there\nis not a trace of humor in the book would doubtless recommend it to the\ndignified and lethargic orientals for whom it was written. Bokhari\nseemed to consider himself prophet, priest, and poet-laureate in one.\nThe work has a high position in the Malayan Peninsula, where it is read\nby young and old. The \"Crown of Kings\" is written in the court language\nof Djohore. The author was a Mohammedan mendicant monk. He called the\nbook the Crown of Kings because \"every king who read and followed its\nprecepts would be a perfect king, and thus only would his crown sit\nwell on his head, and the book itself will be for him a true crown.\"\n\nLa Fontaine and Lamartine loved stories. The schoolmates of the latter\ncalled the latter \"story-lover.\" They would have loved the story of the\nPrincess Djouher Manikam, which is written in a simple and natural\nstyle and is celebrated in the East, or, as the Malays say, in the\n\"country between windward and leeward.\"\n\nFrom the \"Sedjaret Malayou,\" worthless as it is as history, one may\nobtain side lights upon oriental life. Manners are portrayed in vivid\ncolors, so that one may come to have a very accurate knowledge of them.\nCustoms are depicted from which one may learn of the formality and\nregard for precedents which is a perspicuous trait of oriental\ncharacter. The rigid etiquette of court and home may be remarked. From\nthe view of morals here described, one may appreciate how far we have\nprogressed in ethical culture from that prevailing in former times\namong the children of these winterless lands.\n\nThe readers of this series are to be congratulated in that they are\nhere placed in possession of a unique and invaluable source of\ninformation concerning the life and literature of the far-away people\nof the Indian archipelago. To these pages an added interest accrues\nfrom the fact that the Philippines are now protected by our flag.\n\nThe name Malay signifies a wanderer. As a people they are passionate,\nvain, susceptible, and endowed with a reckless bravery and contempt of\ndeath. The Malays have considerable originality in versification. The\npantoum is particularly theirs--a form arising from their habits of\nimprovisation and competitive versifying. They have also the epic or\n_sjair_, generally a pure romance, with much naive simplicity and\nnatural feeling. And finally, they have the popular song, enigma, and\nfable.\n\nAnd so we leave the reader to his pleasant journey to the lands of\nDjinns and Mantris and spells and mystic talismans. He will be\nentertained by the chrestomathy of Bokhari; he will be entranced by the\nstory of the winsome and dainty Bidasari.\n\nCHAUNCEY C. STARKWEATHER\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nBIDASARI:\n\n  Song I\n\n  Song II\n\n  Song III\n\n  Song IV\n\n  Song V\n\n  Song VI\n\nSEDJARET MALAYOU\n\nTHE PRINCESS DJOUHER-MANIKAM\n\nMAKOTA RADJA-RADJA\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE EPIC OF BIDASARI\n\n_Metrical Translation by Chauncey C. Starkweather, A.B., LL.B._\n\nBIDASARI\n\nSONG I\n\n  Hear now the song I sing about a king\n  Of Kembajat. A fakir has completed\n  The story, that a poem he may make.\n  There was a king, a sultan, and he was\n  Handsome and wise and perfect in all ways,\n  Proud scion of a race of mighty kings.\n  He filled the land with merchants bringing wealth\n  And travellers. And from that day's report,\n  He was a prince most valorous and strong,\n  Who never vexing obstacles had met.\n  But ever is the morrow all unknown.\n  After the Sultan, all accomplished man,\n  Had married been a year, or little more,\n  He saw that very soon he'd have an heir.\n  At this his heart rejoiced, and he was glad\n  As though a mine of diamonds were his.\n  Some days the joy continued without clouds.\n  But soon there came the moment when the prince\n  Knew sorrow's blighting force, and had to yield\n  His country's capital. A savage bird,\n  Garouda called, a very frightful bird,\n  Soared in the air, and ravaged all the land.\n  It flew with wings and talons wide outstretched,\n  With cries to terrify the stoutest heart.\n  All people, great and small, were seized with dread,\n  And all the country feared and was oppressed,\n  And people ran now this way and now that.\n  The folk approached the King. He heard the noise\n  As of a fray, and, angry, asked the guard,\n  \"Whence comes this noise?\" As soon as this he said\n  One of his body-guard replied with awe,\n  \"Illustrious lord, most merciful of kings,\n  A fell garouda follows us about.\"\n  The King's face paled when these dread words be heard.\n  The officers arose and beat their breasts.\n  The sorrow of the King was greater still\n  Because the Queen was ill. He took her hand\n  And started without food or anything.\n  He trusted all to God, who watches o'er\n  The safety of the world. The suff'ring Queen\n  Spoke not a word and walked along in tears.\n  They went by far _campongs_ and dreary fields\n  Beneath a burning sun which overwhelmed\n  Their strength. And so the lovely Queen's fair face\n  From palest yellow grew quite black. The prince\n  Approached the desert with his body torn\n  By thorns and brambles. All his care and grief\n  Were doubled when he saw his lovely wife\n  Who scarce could drag herself along and whom\n  He had to lead. Most desolate was he,\n  Turning his mind on the good Queen's sad lot.\n  Upon the way he gave up all to her.\n  Two months they journeyed and one day they came\n  Unto a _campong_ of a merchant, where\n  They looked for rest because the Queen was weak.\n  The path was rugged and the way was hard.\n  The prince made halt before the palisades,\n  For God had made him stop and rest awhile.\n  The Sultan said: \"What is this _campong_ here?\n  I fain would enter, but I do not dare.\"\n  The good Queen wept and said: \"O my beloved,\n  What shall I say? I am so tired and weak\n  I cannot journey more.\" The King was quite\n  Beside himself and fainted where he sat.\n  But on they journeyed to the riverside,\n  Stopping at every step.\n\n                  And when the King\n  Had gained the bank he saw a little boat\n  With roof of bent bamboos and _kadjang_ screen.\n  Then to the Queen, \"Rest here, my precious one.\"\n  The silver moon was at the full, but veiled\n  With clouds, like to a maid who hides her face\n  And glances toward her lover timidly.\n  Then there was born a daughter, like a flower,\n  More beautiful than statue of pure gold,\n  Just like the tulips that the princess plucked.\n  The mother's heart was broken at the thought\n  That she must leave the babe, the child beloved\n  They both adored, such beauty it presaged.\n  The King with tears exclaimed, \"How can we take\n  The infant with us o'er this stony road\n  Beset with thorns, and burned with dreadful heat?\n  Pearl of my palace,\" said he to the Queen,\n  \"Weep not so bitterly about the child.\n  An offering let us make of her to God.\n  God grant she may be found by loving hearts\n  Who'll care for her and raise her in their home.\"\n  As soon as they had quite determined there\n  To leave the infant princess, their great grief\n  No limit knew. But ere they went away\n  The King took up the infant in his arms\n  And rocked her on his knees until she slept.\n  \"Sleep on, heart's love, my soul, my little one,\n  Weep not for thy dear mother's lot. She fain\n  Would take thee with her, but the way is hard.\n  Sleep on, dear child, the apple of my eye,\n  The image of thy sire. Stay here, fear not.\n  For unto God we trust thee, Lord of all.\n  Sleep on, my child, chief jewel of my crown,\n  And let thy father go. To look at thee\n  Doth pierce my heart as by a poniard's blow.\n  Ah, sweet my child, dear, tender little one,\n  Thy father loves yet leaves thee. Happy be,\n  And may no harm come nigh thee. Fare thee well.\"\n  The little princess slept, lulled by his voice.\n  He put her from his knees and placed her on\n  A finely woven cloth of Ind, and covered her\n  With satin webbed with gold. With flowing tears\n  The mother wrapped her in a tissue fine\n  Adorned with jewels like to sculptured flowers.\n  She seized the child and weeping murmured low:\n  \"O dearest child, my pretty little girl!\n  I leave thee to the Master of the world.\n  Live happily, although thy mother goes\n  And leaves thee here. Ah, sad thy mother's lot!\n  Thy father forces her to quit thee now.\n  She would prefer with thee to stay, but, no!\n  Thy father bids her go. And that is why\n  Thy mother's fond heart breaks, she loves thee so,\n  And yet must leave thee. Oh, how can I live?\"\n  The mother fainted, and the grieving King\n  Was fain to kill himself, so was he moved.\n  He took the Queen's head on his knees. And soon\n  By God's decree and ever-sheltering grace\n  She to her senses came and stood erect.\n  Again she wept on looking at the child.\n  \"If I should never see thee more, sweet soul,\n  Oh, may thy mother share thy fate! Her life\n  Is bound to thine. The light is gone from out\n  Thy mother's eyes. Hope dies within her heart\n  Because she fears to see thee nevermore.\n  Oh, may some charitable heart, my child,\n  Discover thee!\" The prince essayed to dry\n  Her tears. \"Now come away, my dearest love.\n  Soon day will dawn.\" The prince in grief set out,\n  But ever turned and wanted to go back.\n  They walked along together, man and wife\n  All solitary, with no friends at hand,\n  Care-worn and troubled, and the moon shone bright.\n\n\nSONG II\n\n  I sing in this song of a merchant great\n  And of his wealth. His goods and treasures were\n  Beyond all count, his happiness without\n  Alloy. In Indrapura town there was\n  No equal to his fortune. He possessed\n  A thousand slaves, both old and young, who came\n  From Java and from other lands. His rank\n  Was higher than Pangawa's. Wives he had\n  In goodly numbers. But he lacked one thing\n  That weighed upon his heart--he had no child.\n  Now, by the will of God, the merchant great\n  Came very early from the palace gates,\n  And sought the river-bank, attended by\n  His favorite wife. Lila Djouhara was\n  The merchant's name. He heard a feeble voice\n  As of an infant crying, like the shrill\n  Tones of a flute, and from a boat it seemed\n  To come. Then toward the wondrous boat he went\n  And saw an infant with a pretty face.\n  His heart was overjoyed as if he had\n  A mine of diamonds found. The spouses said:\n  \"Whose child is this? It surely must belong\n  To one of highest rank. Some cause he had\n  To leave her here.\" The merchant's heart was glad\n  To see the bright eyes of the little one.\n  He raised her in his arms and took her home.\n  Four waiting-maids and nurses two he gave\n  The pretty child. The palace rooms were all\n  Adorned anew, with rugs and curtains soft,\n  And tapestries of orange hue were hung.\n  The princess rested on a couch inlaid with gold,\n  A splendid couch, with lanterns softly bright\n  And tapers burning with a gentle ray.\n  The merchant and his wife with all their hearts\n  Adored the child, as if it were their own.\n  She looked like Mindoudari, and received\n  The name of Bidasari. Then they took\n  A little fish and changing vital spirits\n  They put it in a golden box, then placed\n  The box within a casket rich and rare.\n  The merchant made a garden, with all sorts\n  Of vases filled with flowers, and bowers of green\n  And trellised vines. A little pond made glad\n  The eyes, with the precious stones and topaz set\n  Alternately, in fashion of the land\n  Of Pellanggam, a charm for all. The sand\n  Was purest gold, with alabaster fine\n  All mixed with red pearls and with sapphires blue.\n  And in the water deep and clear they kept\n  The casket. Since they had the infant found,\n  Sweet Bidasari, all the house was filled\n  With joy. The merchant and his wife did naught\n  But feast and clap their hands and dance. They watched\n  The infant night and day. They gave to her\n  Garments of gold, with necklaces and gems,\n  With rings and girdles, and quaint boxes, too,\n  Of perfume rare, and crescent pins and flowers\n  Of gold to nestle in the hair, and shoes\n  Embroidered in the fashion of Sourat.\n  By day and night the merchant guarded her.\n  So while sweet Bidasari grew, her lovely face\n  Increased in beauty. Her soft skin was white\n  And yellow, and she was most beautiful.\n  Her ear-rings and her bracelets made her look\n  Like some rare gem imprisoned in a glass.\n  Her beauty had no equal, and her face\n  Was like a nymph's celestial. She had gowns\n  As many as she wished, as many as\n  A princess fair of Java. There was not\n  A second Bidasari in the land.\n\n  I'll tell about Djouhan Mengindra now,\n  Sultan of Indrapura. Very wide\n  His kingdom was, with ministers of state\n  And officers, and regiments of picked\n  Young warriors, the bulwark of the throne.\n  This most illustrious prince had only been\n  Two years the husband of fair Lila Sari,\n  A princess lovable and kind. The King\n  Was deemed most handsome. And there was within\n  All Indrapura none to equal him.\n  His education was what it should be,\n  His conversation very affable.\n  He loved the princess Lila Sari well.\n  He gave her everything, and she in turn\n  Was good to him, but yet she was so vain.\n  \"There is no one so beautiful as I,\"\n  She said. They were united like unto\n  The soul and body. And the good King thought\n  There could not be another like his wife.\n  One day they were together, and the Queen\n  Began to sing: \"Oh, come, my well-beloved,\n  And listen to my words. Thou tellst me oft\n  Thou lovest me. But I know not thy heart.\n  If some misfortune were to overwhelm\n  Wouldst thou be true to me?\" He smiled and said:\n  \"No harm can touch thee, dear. But should it come,\n  Whenever thou art 'whelmed I'll perish too.\"\n  With joy the princess said: \"My noble prince,\n  If there were found a woman whose flower face\n  Were fairer than all others in the world,\n  Say, wouldst thou wed her?\" And the King replied:\n  \"My friend, my fairest, who is like to thee?\n  My soul, my princess, of a noble race,\n  Thou'rt sweet and wise and good and beautiful.\n  Thou'rt welded to my heart. No thought of mine\n  Is separate from thee.\"\n\n                  The princess smiled;\n  Her face was all transfigured with her joy.\n  But suddenly the thought came to her mind,\n  \"Who knows there is none more fair than I?\"\n  And then she cried: \"Now hear me, O my love!\n  Were there a woman with an angel-face,\n  Wouldst them make her thy wife? If she appeared\n  Unto thine eyes more beautiful than I,\n  Then would thy heart not burn for her?\"\n\n                  The prince\n  But smiled, and answered not. She also smiled,\n  But said, \"Since thou dost hesitate, I know\n  That thou wouldst surely wed her.\" Then the prince\n  Made answer: \"O my heart, gold of my soul,\n  If she in form and birth were like to thee\n  I'd join her with thy destiny.\" Now when\n  The princess heard these words she paled and shook.\n  With eyes cast down, she left her royal spouse.\n  But quick he seized her. With a smile he said:\n  \"Gold, ruby, dearest friend, I pray thee now,\n  Oh, be not vexed with me. Light of my eyes,\n  Keep not within thy heart a bitterness\n  Because I answered thus unto thy words.\"\n  He took her in his arms and kissed her lips\n  And wooed her. And her face again grew sweet\n  The while she heard. And yet her woman's heart\n  Was grieved and saddened. And she sat apart,\n  And swift these thoughts came to her anxious mind:\n  \"I'll seek to-morrow through this kingdom wide,\n  Lest there should be within the land a maid\n  More fair than I. To death I shall condemn\n  Her straight, lest rival she may be to me.\n  For if my lord should marry her, he'd love\n  Her more than me. He'd love the younger one,\n  And constantly my tortured heart would bleed.\"\n  They angered her, these thoughts, as if her heart\n  Were filled with gall. \"Now may I be accursed\n  If I go not unto the end in love.\"\n  Her heart was not assuaged; she sighed alone.\n  Upon the morrow morn the King went out,\n  And with him many officers and men.\n  Meanwhile the Princess Lila Sari sent\n  A summons to a jeweller of skill,\n  And at the same time called her four _dyangs_,\n  Who came and sat. Dang Wilapat bowed low\n  And said, \"Our greetings to thee, princess great.\"\n  The Queen replied: \"Go forth, _dyangs_, at once\n  And find me gold and dust of gold, and take\n  It all unto a goldsmith. Let him make\n  For me a fan, all decked with beauteous gems,\n  With rubies red and pearls; and after that\n  A girdle virginal. Count not the price.\n  I want it all as quickly as may be.\"\n  And so they hastened, took the gold, and went\n  Outside the city, through the whole _campong_\n  Of goldsmiths, seeking there the best to make\n  The fan and girdle. And the hammered gold\n  Soon shone with many amethysts and gems.\n  It was a marvel to behold those rare\n  And quaintly fashioned ornaments, to deck\n  A sultaness. Of priceless worth they were.\n  Four days, and all was ready for the Queen.\n  But she had never eaten all this time\n  Because of grief. She thought the fan more fine\n  Than Java princess ever yet possessed.\n  She called the four _dyangs_ and said to them:\n  \"A secret mission have I now for ye.\n  Go up and down among the officers\n  And show this fan for sale, but never name\n  The price. Seek ever if there be a face\n  More beautiful than mine; and should ye find\n  A face more fair, come tell it straight to me.\n  If ye obey my will I'll make ye all\n  Inspectresses within the royal home.\"\n  Then forth the women went upon the quest.\n  And first among their friends they went with words\n  Of mystery and hints of wondrous things\n  They had for sale. And so these servants bore\n  The story to their masters, \"The _dyangs_\n  Have something wonderful to sell.\" And soon\n  The daughters of the houses rich began\n  To clamor for a sight of this great prize.\n  Then the _dyangs,_ went to the houses all.\n  The young girls said, \"Oh, tell us now the price.\"\n  Dyang Wiravan quickly answered, then\n  Dyang Podagah: \"Tis a princely thing;\n  I'll go and ask the price and tell it thee.\"\n  And so they spoke, and so they looked about\n  To find a face more beautiful and rare\n  Than their own Queen's, and wearied in the search.\n  \"Where can we further look?\" they said, and then\n  Bethought them of the strangers and the priests.\n  But in that quarter no one dared to touch\n  The precious things, but thought it passing strange\n  The Queen should wish to sell. To the _campong_\n  Of merchants next they went. A double line\n  Of ramparts guarded it. \"Here is more stir\n  And gayety,\" they said, \"with sport and song,\n  Than elsewhere have we found.\" And so they sought\n  The richest merchants. \"We have something rare,\"\n  They said, \"made by an artist Javanese.\"\n  When Bidasari's servants saw these folk\n  They said: \"Bring these things to our house and we\n  Will show them to our master. He will buy.\"\n  Then the _dyangs_ with smiles replied: \"They are\n  Not ours, but our good Queen's. And only we\n  May show them, lest a stone be lost, perchance,\n  And we be punished.\" Bidasari's maids\n  Were glad and said, \"Wait but a moment here\n  Until we find what Bidasari wills.\"\n  They found her with her maids, and told the tale.\n  Then Bidasari bade them bring to her\n  The stranger folk, and said, \"If I be pleased\n  I'll buy.\" Dang Ratna Watie went and told\n  The women that young Bidasari wished\n  To see their wares. The four _dyangs_ came in\n  Together. Joy their faces all suffused,\n  But they seemed timid, modest, full of fear.\n  Then Bidasari's women said to them:\n  \"Come, O young women, all are loyal here.\n  Enter, our sisters and our friends.\"\n\n                  Now when\n  The Queen's _dyangs_ had looked about them there\n  They all were dazzled, Bidasari's face\n  So beautiful appeared. How beat their hearts!\n  As they upon her lovely features gazed,\n  Each murmured to herself, \"She is more fair\n  Than our great Queen.\"\n\n                  Then Bidasari wished\n  To buy the fan, and sent a maid to ask\n  Her parents for the gold. The merchant said,\n  \"Go see what thing it is, and weigh the gold\n  For her.\" The mother feared a trap or trick.\n  \"Oh, do not buy the fan, my child,\" she said;\n  \"I'll buy a finer one for thee. Send this\n  Away.\" But when her father saw her tears\n  Of disappointment, \"It is thine,\" he said.\n  \"What is the price? I'd buy it though it cost\n  Thy weight in gold, my darling. Tell me now,\n  _Dyangs_.\" Tjendra Melinee answered him,\n  \"Are two timbangs too much?\" \"I'm very poor,\"\n  He said; \"but I will buy it for the child.\"\n  The gold was weighed. The four _dyangs_ straightway\n  Departed, hurried to the Queen and said:\n  \"At last we have discovered, O our Queen,\n  What thou hast sought. 'Tis in a near _campong_\n  Of merchants very rich and great. Oh, there\n  We found a princess fairer than the day;\n  More like an angel than a mortal maid.\n  No woman in this land compares with her.\n  Her name is Bidasari. And the King\n  Would surely marry her if once they met,\n  For soon she will be ready for a spouse;\n  Her innocence is charming. Like a cloud\n  The merchant and his wife keep watchful guard.\n  Her hair is curly, like a flower full blown.\n  Her brow is like the moon but one day old.\n  She's like a ring in Peylou made. She would\n  Outshine thy beauty, shouldst thou bring her here.\"\n  The princess heard and quickly said: \"I feel\n  My hatred rise. Oh, may I never see\n  Her face! To hear ye speak of her inflames\n  My heart with anger. Say, why do ye think\n  That she's more fair than I?\" Then made reply\n  The women: \"Bidasari's eyes are soft.\n  Her smile is sweet, her skin is tinted like\n  The green _tjempakka_, and her graceful form\n  Resembles some famed statue nobly made.\n  Her cheeks are like the bill of flying bird.\n  We loved to look upon her neck. Her nose\n  Is like a jasmine bud. Her pretty face\n  Is like the yellow of an egg. Her thoughts\n  Are pure as crystal. And she wears her hair\n  In such a charming way. Her lips are like\n  A little polished box. The flowers she wears\n  But make her look the prettier. Her teeth\n  Are like a bright pomegranate. Ah, the heart\n  Doth open when one looketh on her face.\n  She's like a princess of the Mount Lidang.\n  Her features are like those of Nilagendi,\n  Her heels are like the eggs of hens, and make\n  Her seem a princess of Siam. Her fingers\n  More tapering are than quills of porcupine.\n  And solid is the nail of her left hand.\n  No noble's girl is Bidasari's peer.\"\n  Now when the princess heard them sing her praise\n  Her soul was wounded as if by a thorn.\n  Her dark eyes flashed. \"Ah, speak no more of her,\"\n  She said, \"nor speak abroad what ye have seen.\n  But bring me Bidasari. I would see\n  If what ye say be true.\"\n\n                  \"Then we must take\n  Her presents first, and strive to gain by them\n  Her friendship, and attain our end at last.\"\n  They went to see her every day, and bore\n  Rich gifts.\n\n                  The merchant and his wife remarked\n  The visits of the Queen's _dyangs_, and how\n  They loved their daughter. That is why they gave\n  Them all that they desired. But the _dyangs_\n  Among themselves kept saying: \"How can we\n  Take her away? We love her so, and deep\n  Within our hearts we pity her. And now\n  Her parents have such trust in us, and load\n  Us down with gifts. But when, alas, at home\n  The princess questions us, what shall we say?\n  For she's a powerful Queen. Yet if we make\n  Unhappy this dear girl of these good folk,\n  Shall we not sin? And still the princess is\n  So violent and harsh! Her jealousy\n  Would know no limit should the King but hear\n  Of this affair.\"\n\n                  Dang Djoudah answering spoke:\n  \"We all can go to her and quiet her.\n  A word suffices oft. She is our Queen,\n  But to the King belongeth power supreme.\n  If Bidasari should disdain the throne\n  We shall renounce our functions at the court,\n  For what the Queen desires is most unjust.\n  And if we prove unfaithful we shall be\n  O'erwhelmed with maledictions.\" Thus they spoke\n  And went back to the busy-lived _campong_\n  Of merchants. Here they thought to go and find\n  Djouhara, and obtain what they desired.\n  A messenger went after them and said:\n  \"To Dang Bidouri: Come at once; my friend\n  The princess summons you.\" Then the _dyangs_\n  Went to the Queen and found her with the King\n  At dinner. With malicious wink of eye\n  She made them understand they must not talk\n  Before the prince. When he had dined he took\n  Some _siri_ from the betel-box, himself\n  Anointed with a perfume sweet, and went\n  To teach the young folk how to ride and shoot\n  The arrow straight, and played at many games.\n  Meanwhile the princess Lila Sari called\n  Before her the _dyangs_ and questioned them:\n  \"Why have ye come so late?\" Bidouri bowed\n  And said: \"'Twas very hard to bring her here\n  To thee. The merchant and his wife do not\n  A moment leave her, for they love her so.\n  Her tiring-women ever are about.\n  Thou shouldst demand her of her parents, if\n  Thou dost desire to see her. Treat her like\n  Thy child, for she is still so very young!\n  From Bidasari's father thou wilt gain\n  All that thou canst desire, he is so rich,\n  If thou wilt only love his daughter dear.\n  And dost thou give command to bring her here?\n  Let us go all alone and summon her\n  For Bidasari'll freely follow us.\"\n  They tried to calm the anger of the Queen.\n  She bowed her head in silence, but her soul\n  Was very heavy, and hypocrisy\n  With hate and envy vied within her heart.\n  \"They love the child, these _dyangs_,\" to herself\n  She said, \"and I shall have no easy task.\n  I shall attract her here by trickery,\n  But she shall never my companion be.\n  With Bidasari once within my power\n  My heart will be no longer on the rack.\n  Go now, _dyangs_,\" she said, \"and seek for me\n  The merchant and his wife and hither bring\n  Young Bidasari, whom I'll elevate\n  Unto the rank of princess, for I have\n  No child. Mazendra take with ye. And when\n  Young Bidasari shall arrive, conceal\n  Her for a day or two. And gently speak\n  Unto the merchant and his wife, and say\n  Concessions will be granted to the priests\n  And strangers in their quarter, should she come.\n  Console Lila Djouhara thus, and pledge\n  That he may come to see his child whene'er\n  His heart impelleth him.\" An escort went\n  With them, and the _dyangs_ bowed low before\n  The merchant and his wife, and greeted, too,\n  Fair Bidasari. But the merchant said:\n  \"Why come ye here in so great numbers?\" Then\n  They straight replied: \"Our most beloved Queen\n  Hath sent us here with greetings unto thee,\n  The master of the house. If thou'lt permit,\n  We've come to seek fair Bidasari here.\"\n  They beat their breasts, the merchant and his wife.\n  \"Our darling, only child! It will be hard\n  For her to be the servant of a prince;\n  For she hath had her way so long! Her traits\n  Are not yet formed. Go back, _dyangs_, and pray\n  The Queen to pardon us. Say how we grieve.\"\n  But the _dyangs_ repeated all the words\n\n  Said by the Queen, and so their fears were calmed.\n  They hoped Queen Lila Sari would love well\n  Fair Bidasari. Then the merchant said:\n  \"I will obey, and let my darling go,\n  So that she may become unto the Queen\n  A servant, and perchance a daughter loved.\n  Now shall she go with ye. Only I beg\n  The Queen to let her come back home to us\n  At three days' end. She is not used to stay\n  With strangers. Never hath she left us for\n  A single day.\" Then Dang Bidouri said:\n  \"We'll do our best before the Queen; and why\n  Should she not grant to Bidasari this?\"\n  They bathed fair Bidasari with sweet scents,\n  And then arranged her in rich raiment new.\n  A fine _sijrash_ she wore with broidered flowers\n  Of Pekan, and a satin robe all fringed\n  With gold. She bore a plaque of beaten gold\n  Bound to a necklace, chiselled, gem-bedecked;\n  Her over-tunic was of yellow silk\n  With tiny serpents on the buttons 'graved.\n  Three bracelets wore the maid, and rarest rings,\n  And ear-rings like a wheel in motion wrought.\n  Chaste links of gold set forth her beauty rare,\n  A fair flow'r in a vase, whose perfume sweet\n  Wafts scented breaths as far as one may see.\n  They kissed her then with tears and held her close\n\n  Upon their breasts. \"Be humble to the Queen,\"\n  They said, \"remember that thou art before\n  The King, and near the throne. Ask leave to come\n  To see us when thou dost desire. Speak sweetly\n  With low and gentle voice.\"\n\n                  Thus they enjoined.\n  And then the merchant said, \"_Dyangs_, if ye\n  Love Bidasari, see ye vex her not.\"\n  They dried their tears and said: \"Be without fear.\n  Intrust thy daughter to our mistress dear.\"\n  \"My child,\" he said, \"I'll come to see thee oft.\n  Thou wilt be better there, my love, than here.\"\n  But Bidasari wept and cried: \"Oh, come,\n  Dear mother, with me! Wilt thou not, alas?\"\n  But the fond parents were astounded then\n  To learn the mother was not asked to come.\n  She stayed with tears, the while the father went.\n  As far as to the city's gates. With tears\n  He said: \"Farewell, O apple of my eye\n  I leave thee here. Fear not, my dearest child.\"\n  Then Bidasari wept. Her heart was wrung.\n  She went. The merchant followed with his eyes.\n  She entered by a hidden door. _Dyangs_\n  And _mandars_ flocked to see her, but she hung\n  Her head and kept her eyes downcast.\n\n                  The sun\n  Announced the evening, and the King was still\n  Surrounded by his officers. 'Twas then\n  Fair Bidasari to the palace came,\n  And stood before the Queen. All the _dyangs_\n  Sat on the floor, with servants of the house.\n  Like the _pengawas_ Bidasari bowed,\n  'Mid the _dyangs_, in presence of the Queen.\n  They gave her all the merchant's gifts, as sign\n  Of homage. All astonished was the Queen\n  At Bidasari's beauty. She appeared\n  Almost divine. Bidouri spoke and said,\n  \"Thou seest Bidasari, O our Queen,\n  Lila Djouhari's daughter.\" At these words\n  The Queen was stupefied, and thought: \"In truth\n  'Tis as they said. She is more lovely than\n  The fairest work of art.\" Bidouri told\n  All that the merchant and his wife had said.\n  The Queen inclined her head and silence kept,\n  But wicked thoughts were surging in her brain.\n  A combat raged within her heart. She feared\n  The King might see the maiden. \"Send away,\"\n  She said, \"the nurses and the women all.\"\n  Fair Bidasari wept when they retired.\n  The princess called her to her side and said:\n\n  \"Thou must not weep so, Bidasari. They\n  Will all return. When thou dost wish to go,\n  They will go with thee. Now depart, _dyangs_.\n  Ye need not care for Bidasari more.\n  I will procure her dames of company\n  And servants. You may come from time to time.\"\n  So they arose, and, with prostrations, went.\n  The Queen conducted Bidasari then\n  Into a room and left her all alone,\n  And all afraid.\n\n                  When evening shadows fell,\n  The great King bade the Queen to sup with him.\n  He sat beside her, smiled and gayly talked,\n  As he had been young Bedouwandas, on\n  His horse, with sword at belt. \"My royal spouse,\n  How thou dost love me! for thou wouldst not sup\n  Without me, though thou needest food and drink.\"\n  Now when the King had eaten, he retired\n  Unto his sleeping-chamber.\n\n                  Still alone\n  And weeping much, fair Bidasari stayed,\n  In darkness with no one to speak to her.\n  She thought on her dear parents. \"O my God!\n  Why dost Thou leave me here?\" The solitude\n  Filled her with terror, and she wept until\n  The middle of the night, and thought of home.\n  Out spake the King: \"Now what is that I hear?\n  What voice is that so sorrowful and sweet?\"\n  \"It is an infant crying,\" said the Queen.\n  \"In all the darkness it has lost its way.\"\n  Her heart was burning, and she sent a word\n  To Bidasari that she must not weep,\n  And held her peace and waited till the dawn.\n  But Bidasari wept the whole night long\n  And cried for home. When the _dyangs_ all ran\n  To comfort her, they found the door was locked,\n  And none could enter. Bidasari thought,\n  \"What wrong have I committed, that the Queen\n  Should be so vexed with me?\" When day appeared,\n  To the pavilion went the King. The Queen\n  Threw wide the door of Bidasari's room\n  And entered all alone.\n\n                  Then Bidasari\n  The Queen's hand kissed, and begged that she would let\n  Her homeward fare. \"O gracious Queen,\" she said,\n  \"Take pity on me; let me go away.\n  I'll come to thee again.\"\n\n                  The wicked Queen\n  Struck her, and said, \"Thou ne'er shalt see again\n  Thy home.\" The gentle Bidasari drooped\n  Her head and wept afresh, shaking with fear.\n  \"Forgive the evil I have done, my Queen,\n  For I am but a child, and do not know\n  How I have sinned against thee,\" falling at\n  Her feet she said. The Queen in anger struck\n  Her once again. \"I know full well,\" she said,\n  \"All thy designs and projects. What! Am I\n  To rest in peace and see thy beauty grow,\n  And thee become my rival with the King?\"\n  Then Bidasari knew 'twas jealousy\n  That caused the fury of the Queen. Her fear\n  Increased, she trembled and bewailed her fate.\n  The livelong day she was insulted, struck,\n  And of her food deprived.\n\n                  Before the King\n  Returned, the Queen departed from the room\n  Of Bidasari. The poor child had lost\n  Her former color. Black her face had grown\n  From blows, as if she had been burnt. Her eyes\n  She could not open. Such her sufferings were\n  She could not walk. Then unto God she cried:\n  \"O Lord, creator of the land and sea,\n  I do not know my fault, and yet the Queen\n  Treats me as guilty of a heinous crime.\n  I suffer hell on earth. Why must I live?\n  Oh, let me die now, in the faith, dear Lord.\n  My soul is troubled and my face is black\n  With sorrow. Let me die before the dawn.\n  My parents do not help me. They have left\n  Me here alone to suffer. In the false\n  _Dyangs_ I trusted, as to sisters dear.\n  Their lips are smiling, but their hearts are base.\n  Their mouths are sweet as honey, but their hearts\n  Are full of evil. Oh, what can I say?\n  It is the will of God.\"\n\n                  Such was the grief\n  Of Bidasari, and her tears fell fast.\n  Now when the King went forth again, the Queen\n  Began anew her persecutions harsh.\n  With many blows and angry words, she said:\n  \"Why dost thou groan so loudly? Dost thou seek\n  By crying to attract the King, to see\n  Thy beauty? 'Tis thy hope, I know full well,\n  His younger wife to be. And thou art proud\n  Of all thy beauty.\" Bidasari was\n  Astounded, and replied with many tears:\n  \"May I accursed be if ever I\n  Such plottings knew. Thou art a mighty Queen.\n  If I have sinned against thee, let me die\n  At once. For life is useless to the hearts\n  That suffer. Hast thou brought me here to beat?\n  How thou hast made me weep! O Queen, art thou\n  Without compassion?\"\n\n                  All possessed with rage\n  The Queen replied: \"I do not pity thee.\n  I hate thee, when I see thee. Open not\n  Thy mouth again.\" The wicked Queen then seized\n  The lovely tresses of the beauteous maid,\n  And took a piece of wood with which to strike;\n  But Bidasari wept and swooned away.\n  The King's voice sounded through the corridor,\n  As he returned. The Queen then hastened forth\n  And left a _mandar_ there to close and guard\n  Fair Bidasari's room, that nothing should\n  Be seen. Then asked the King of her, \"Whom hast\n  Thou beaten now?\" The hypocrite replied,\n  \"It was a child that disobeyed my will.\"\n  \"Are there not others for that discipline?\n  Is it for thee to strike?\" His _siri_ then\n  He took, and kissed the Queen with fondest love.\n  All the _dyangs_ fair Bidasari's plight\n  Observed, and kindly pity filled their breasts.\n  \"How cruel is the conduct of the Queen!\"\n  They said. \"She made us bring her to her side\n  But to maltreat the child the livelong day.\n  It seems as if she wished to slay her quite.\"\n  Then secretly they went, with some to watch,\n  And sprinkled Bidasari's brow. To life\n  She came, and opened those dear wistful eyes.\n  \"My friends,\" she said, \"I pray ye, let me go\n  Back home again unto my father's house.\"\n  \"Oh, trust in God, my child,\" said one in tears.\n  \"My lot is written from eternity.\n  Oh, pray the princess great to take my life,\"\n  The poor child cried; \"I can no longer stand;\n  My bones are feeble. Oh, she has no heart!\"\n  But the _dyangs_, for fear the Queen might see,\n  All fled.\n\n  Meanwhile the merchant and his wife\n  Wept all the day, and sighed for their dear child,\n  Sweet Bidasari. Nor did gentle sleep\n  Caress their eyes at night. Each day they sent\n  Rich presents of all kinds, and half of them\n  Were for the child. But naught the wicked Queen\n  To Bidasari gave. So five days passed\n  And then Dyang Menzara forth they sent.\n  The merchant said: \"Oh, tell the mighty Queen\n  That I must Bidasari see. I'll bring\n  Her back in three days' time.\" The good\n  _Dyang_ went to the queen and bowing low:\n  \"The merchant fain would see his child,\" she said.\n  At this the features of the Queen grew hard.\n  \"Did they not give their child to me? Now scarce\n  A day has passed, and they must see her face.\n  Is it thine own wish or the merchant's? I\n  Have said the girl could go where'er she would.\n  Can I not have her taken back myself?\"\n  Then the _dyang_ bowed, beat her breast, and went,\n  Sad that she could not Bidasari see,\n  And quaking at the anger of the Queen.\n  Of the _dyang_, fair Bidasari heard\n  The voice, and felt her heart break that she could\n  Not speak to her and send a message home.\n\n  Upon the morrow, when the King had gone\n  Among his ministers and men of state,\n  The Queen again to Bidasari's room\n  Repaired, to beat her more. As soon as she\n  Beheld the Queen, poor Bidasari prayed\n  To her, \"O sovereign lady great, permit\n  That I may go unto my father's house.\"\n  The princess shook with rage, her face on fire.\n  \"If thou but sayest a word, I'll slay thee here.\"\n  To whom could Bidasari turn? She bent\n  Before the will of God, and in a sweet\n  Voice said: \"O Lord, my God, have pity now\n  Upon me, for the cruel world has none.\n  Grant now the Queen's desire and let me die,\n  For she reproacheth me, though naught I've done.\n  My parents have forgotten me, nor send\n  A word.\" The angry princess struck again\n  Her piteous face, and as she swooned away\n  A napkin took to twist into a cord\n  And strangle her. She summoned to her aid\n  Dang Ratna Wali. \"Help me pluck this weed;\n  I wish to kill her.\" But the woman fled,\n  As base as cruel. Bidasari's ghost\n  Arose before her. Yet the child came back\n  To consciousness, and thought amid her tears:\n  \"I'll tell the story of the golden fish\n  Unto the Queen, that she may know it all;\n  For I can but a little while endure\n  These pains.\" She spoke then to the Queen and said:\n  \"O Queen, thou dost desire that I shall die.\n  Seek out a little casket that doth lie\n  All hidden in the fish-pond at our house.\n  Within it is a fish. Have it brought here\n  And I will tell thee what it signifies.\"\n  The princess called Dyang Sendari: \"Go\n  And bring here the _dyangs_, with no delay\n  From out the merchant's house.\" When they arrived:\n  \"Go, now, _dyangs_, for Bidasari saith\n  There is a little casket in the pond\n  Where she is wont to bathe. Go bring it me,\n  In silence, letting no one see ye come.\"\n  Then the _dyangs_ replied: \"Oh, hear our prayer\n  For Bidasari. How her parents grieve!\n  Oh, pardon, princess, let her go with us.\"\n  The Queen with smiles responded: \"The young girl\n  Is very happy here, and full of joy.\n  Her parents must not grieve, for in two days\n  If Bidasari doth desire to go\n  I'll send her freely. She is vexed that ye\n  Come here so often.\" The _dyangs_ bowed low,\n  And smiled, and called enticingly: \"Come forth,\n  O charming child, pure soul; it is not right\n  To treat us so, for we have come to see\n  Thy lovely face, and in its beauty bask.\"\n  Sweet Bidasari heard, and could not speak,\n  But answered with her tears. The cruel Queen\n  Said to them: \"Speak no more. But if ye bring\n  The little casket, ye will fill the heart\n  Of Bidasari with great joy.\" Forth fared\n  Then the _dyangs_, and found the casket small,\n  And brought it to the palace of the Queen.\n  Again to Bidasari called the good\n  _Dyangs_: \"Oh, come, dear heart, and take it from\n  Our hands yourself.\" \"She sleeps,\" the princess said.\n  \"Come back to-morrow.\" So they bowed and went.\n  The princess hastened with the casket rich\n  To Bidasari's room, and opened it\n  Before her eyes. Within it was a box\n  Of agate, beautiful to see, and filled\n  With water wherein swam a little fish\n  Of form most ravishing. The princess stood\n  Amazed to see with eyes of fire a fish\n  That swam. Then was she glad, and spoke with joy\n  To Bidasari: \"Say what signifies\n  The fish to thee? What shall I do with it?\"\n  Then Bidasari bowed and said: \"My soul\n  Is in that fish. At dawn must thou remove\n  It from the water, and at night replace.\n\n  \"Leave it not here and there, but hang it from\n  Thy neck. If this thou dost, I soon shall die.\n  My words are true. Neglect no single day\n  To do as I have said, and in three days\n  Thou'lt see me dead.\"\n\n                  The Queen felt in her heart\n  A joy unspeakable. She took the fish\n  And wore it on a ribbon round her neck.\n  Unto the Queen then Bidasari spoke,\n  \"Oh, give my body to my parents dear\n  When I am dead.\" Again the young maid swooned.\n  The Queen believed her dead, and ceased to beat\n  Her more. But she yet lived, though seeming dead.\n  The joyful Queen a white cloth over her\n  Then spread, and called aloud to the _dyangs_,\n  \"Take Bidasari to her father's house.\"\n  They groaned and trembled when they saw that she\n  Was dead, and said with many tears: \"Alas!\n  O dearest one, O gold all virginal!\n  What shall we say when we thy parents see?\n  They'll beat their breasts and die of grief. They gave\n  Thee to the King because they trusted us.\"\n  But the proud Queen, her face all red with hate:\n  \"Why stay ye? Take the wretched girl away.\"\n  They saw the Queen's great rage, and bore the maid\n  Upon their shoulders forth, and carried her\n  Unto her father's house at dead of night.\n  Fear seized the merchant. \"Say what bring ye here?\n  Tell me, _dyangs_.\" They placed her on the ground.\n  The merchant and his wife, beside themselves,\n  With tears embraced her form. \"I trusted in\n  The Queen, and so I sent my child to her.\n  O daughter dear, so young, so pure, so sweet,\n  What hast thou done that could the Queen displease,\n  That she should send thee home like this to me?\n  How could the Queen treat Bidasari so?\n  For seven days she imprisoned her and sent\n  Her home in death. Ah, noble child! alas!\n  Thy father's heart will break, no more to hear\n  Thy voice. Speak to thy father, O my child,\n  My pearl, my gem of women, purest gold,\n  Branch of my heart; canst thou not quiet me?\n  O Bidasari, why art thou so still?\n  Arise, my pretty child, arise and play\n  With all thy maids. Here is thy mother, come\n  To greet thee. Bid her welcome. Why art thou\n  So motionless? Hast thou no pity, dear,\n  To see thy father overwhelmed with woe?\n  My heart is bursting with despair because\n  Thou'rt lost to me.\"\n\n                  Long time the merchant thus\n  Lamented. \"What have I to live for now?\n  Since thou art dead, thy father too shall die.\n  It is his lot both night and day to sigh\n  For thee. My God, I cannot understand\n  Why this dear child should thus a victim be!\n  'Tis the _dyangs_ who have this evil wrought.\"\n  Then, through the whole _campong_, the merchants all\n  Made lamentations, rolling on the ground,\n  With noise of thunder, and their hearts on fire.\n  They sought to speak and could not. Then began\n  Again the merchant, and unto his friends\n  Told his misfortune, asking back his child.\n\n  The Queen's _dyangs_ shed tears, and gently said:\n  \"Speak not so loudly. Thou dost know that we\n  Are but poor servants, and we tremble lest\n  The Queen should hear. If any one of us\n  Had done this wrong, we'd tell it to the King.\n  Fate only is at fault. Oh, be not wroth\n  With us. Our will was good. We had no end\n  Except to see thy lovely daughter great\n  And powerful. Naught the King hath known of this.\n  It was the Queen's mad jealousy and hate.\"\n\n  The merchant and his wife accepted these,\n  The _dyangs'_ words. \"It is as they declare.\n  The Queen was jealous and embittered thus\n  Against our Bidasari. To your home\n  Return, _dyangs_. I fear me that the Queen\n  May learn of your delay and punish ye.\"\n  They bowed and went, with hearts of burning grief.\n\n  The merchant and his wife then lifted up\n  Poor Bidasari. They were all but dead\n  With sorrow. On his knees the father took\n  The body wrapped in crimson silk. He felt\n  A warmth. Then he remembered that within\n  The water was her vital spirit still,\n  And, placing her upon a mat, sent Dang\n  Poulam, the casket from the pond to bring.\n  But 'twas not there. Then all the household searched,\n  But found it not. The merchant beat his breast.\n  \"Branch of my heart,\" he said, \"we all had thought\n  Thou wouldst become a princess. I have lost\n  My reason. I hoped now to summon back\n  Thy spirit vital, but the casket's lost.\n  My hope is gone. It may be the _dyangs_\n  Have stolen it. They're faithful to the Queen.\n  We may not trust in them. They're filled with hate\n  And trickery.\" Unconscious all the time\n  Lay Bidasari; but at midnight's hour\n  She for the first time moved. They torches brought\n  And there behind Egyptian curtains, right\n  And left, ignited them, with many lamps'\n  Soft flames. The servants watched and waited there.\n  The father, always at his daughter's side,\n  With fixed glance looked for life to come once more\n  Back to his darling one. She moved again.\n  With opening eyes she saw and recognized\n  Her own soft couch, her parents, and her maids.\n  She tried but could not speak. Her hot tears fell,\n  She slowly turned and looked with fondest love\n  Upon her parents.\n\n                  When the merchant saw\n  That Bidasari's spirit had returned,\n  He took her on his knees and gave her rice.\n  She could not walk because such pain she felt.\n  She thought upon the Queen and wept afresh.\n  They dried her tears, and placed within her mouth\n  What food she liked. The merchant tenderly\n  Said, \"Bidasari, dear, what has thou wrought\n  To cause the Queen against thee thus to act?\"\n  Young Bidasari, with a flood of tears, replied:\n  \"No wrong at all I wrought the cruel Queen.\n  All suddenly her insults she began,\n  And beatings.\" They were stupefied to hear\n  Such tales. \"Light of my eyes,\" the father said,\n  \"We do not doubt thine innocence. Her deeds\n  Were those of madness. For her haughty birth\n  I care no whit. Wisdom and virtue bind\n  True hearts alone. As friends we ne'er must name\n  Those false _dyangs_. Not plants medicinal,\n  But poison foul, are they. These days are bad.\n  Injustice reigns. Believe me, friends, it is\n  A sign the last great day shall soon appear.\n  Those false _dyangs_ are but a race of slaves,\n  Insensible to all that's good. The hour\n  The princess knoweth Bidasari lives,\n  We all shall die, the princess is so wroth.\n  Illustrious Queen they call her--but her words\n  Are hard and cruel. May the curse of God\n  O'erwhelm her and annihilate! From thee,\n  O God, she shall receive the punishment\n  Deserved. She who pursueth thus a soul\n  Shall know remorse and pain. So God hath willed.\n  So God hath willed. Who doth another harm\n  Shall suffer in his turn. It shall be done\n  To him as he hath done to others. So,\n  My child, my crown, have no more fear at all.\n  Intrust thyself to God. The cruel Queen\n  Shall yet be treated as she treated thee.\"\n  The merchant thus lamented till the night\n  Was half departed, shedding sapphire tears.\n  The innocent young girl, like marble there,\n  Slept till the evening twilight came. Toward dawn\n  She swooned anew.\n\n                  The merchant and his wife\n  Were much disturbed to see at night she came\n  To life, but when the daylight shone again\n  They lost her, and her spirit fled away.\n  This so distressed the merchant's heart, a lone\n  Retreat he sought to find. The parents cried:\n  \"O dearest child, there's treason in the air.\n  Hatred and anger the companions are\n  Of lamentations and of curses dire.\n  Foul lies for gold are uttered. Men disdain\n  The promises of God, the faith they owe.\n  Oh, pardon, God! I ne'er thought the _dyangs_\n  Would thus conspire. But since they are so bad\n  And treated Bidasari thus, we'll go\n  And in the desert find a resting-place.\n  And may it be a refuge for us all,\n  Hidden and unapproachable.\"\n\n                  His goods\n  He gathered then, and all his servants paid,\n  And built a home far in the desert land,\n  A spot agreeable. A cabin there\n  He raised, with ramparts hemmed about, and strong\n  _Sasaks_, and seven rows of palisades.\n  They placed there many vases full of flowers,\n  And every sort of tree for fruit and shade,\n  And cool pavilions. This plaisance so fair\n  They called Pengtipourlara. It was like\n  The garden of Batara Indra. All\n  About, the merchant set pomegranate-trees\n  And vines of grape. No other garden was\n  So beautiful. 'Twas like the garden fair\n  Of great Batara Brahma, filled with fruits.\n  When all was ready, forth they went, toward night,\n  And took young Bidasari, and much food.\n  They fared two days and came unto the spot,\n  A garden in the desert. Softest rugs\n  From China there were spread and of bright hue\n  The decorations were, in every tint.\n  The house was hung with tapestries, and ceiled\n  To represent the heavens flecked with clouds.\n  And all about were lanterns hung and lamps.\n  Soft curtains and a couch completed this\n  Enchanted resting-place. Always the light\n  Was uniform, and brilliant as the day.\n  'Twas like a palace of a mighty king,\n  Magnificent and grand beyond compare.\n  There was a table on a damp rug set,\n  With drinks for Bidasari, and with bowls\n  Of gold, and vases of _souasa_, filled\n  With water. All of this beside the couch\n  Was placed, with yellow _siri_, and with pure\n  _Pinang_, all odorous, to please the child.\n  And all was covered with a silken web.\n  Young Bidasari bracelets wore, and rings,\n  And ear-rings diamond studded. Garments four\n  All gem-bedecked upon a cushion lay,\n  For Bidasari's wear. When night had come\n  Young Bidasari waked. Her parents dear\n  Then bathed her, and her tender body rubbed\n  With musk and aloes. Then she straight was clad\n  In garments of her choosing. Her dear face\n  Was beautiful, almost divine. She had\n  Regained the loveliness she erst possessed.\n  The merchant was astonished, seeing her.\n  He told her then that they would leave her there,\n  \"Branch of my heart and apple of my eye,\n  My dearest child, be not disturbed at this.\n  I do not mean to work thee any harm,\n  Nor to disown thee, but to rescue thee\n  From death.\" But as she listened to these words\n  Young Bidasari wept. She thought upon\n  Her fate. Into her father's arms she threw\n  Herself, and cried: \"Why wilt thou leave me here,\n  O father dearest, in this desert lone?\n  I'll have no one to call in case of need.\n  I fear to stay alone. No one there'll be\n  To talk to me. I only count those hours\n  As happy when I have my parents near.\"\n  The merchant heard fair Bidasari's words\n  And wept with his dear wife. With bitter grief\n  Their hearts were shattered. Counsels wise they gave\n  To Bidasari. \"Dearest daughter mine,\"\n  The father said, \"gem of my head, my crown,\n  Branch of my heart, light of my eyes, oh, hear\n  Thy father's words, and be thou not afraid.\n  We brought thee hither, to this fair retreat,\n  Far from the town, for, if the Queen should know\n  Thou liv'st at night, the false _dyangs_ would come,\n  And who against the princess can contend?\n  They'd take thee back, and thus exonerate\n  Themselves. I'd let myself be chopped in bits\n  Before thou shouldst unto the Queen return.\n  Thy father cannot leave companions here,\n  But after three days he will come to thee.\n  Thy parents both will soon come back again.\"\n  Then Bidasari thought: \"My parent's words\n  Are truth, and if the Queen should find I live\n  She would abuse me as before. Give me\n  One maid-companion here to be with me,\"\n  She asked. \"My child, trust not,\" he said, \"in slaves,\n  Nor servants, for they only follow pay.\"\n  Then Bidasari silence kept, and they,\n  The father all distraught and mother fond,\n  Wept bitterly at thought of leaving her.\n  Fair Bidasari bade them eat, before\n  They started. But because of heavy hearts\n  They but a morsel tasted. At the dawn\n  Young Bidasari swooned again. They made\n  All ready to return to town. With tears\n  The father said: \"O apple of my eye,\n  Pearl of all women, branch of my own heart,\n  Pure gold, thy parents leave thee with distress.\n  No more they'll have a daughter in the house.\n  But, dear, take courage, we shall soon come back.\"\n  They left here with a talking bird to cheer\n  Her loneliness, close shutting all the gates\n  Of all the seven ramparts. Through a wood\n  Bushy and thick they took a narrow path,\n  In sorrow, but with confidence in God.\n  \"O sovereign God, protect our child,\" they said.\n  When they had fared unto their house, they prayed\n  And gave much alms.\n\n                  When evening shadows came\n  Young Bidasari waked, and found herself\n  Alone, and was afraid. With bitter tears\n  Her eyes were filled. What could she say? She gave\n  Herself to God. Alas, our destiny\n  Is like a rock. Twas hers to be alone.\n  It is in no man's power to turn aside\n  Or change whatever is by fate decreed.\n  All desolate sat Bidasari. Sleep\n  Wooed not her eyes. Now when he heard the cry\n  Of \"Peladou,\" the owl lamented loud.\n  Upon her parents coming, loaded down\n  With dainties for the child, she for a while\n  Her woe forgot, and ate and drank with joy.\n  The little bird with which she talked upheld\n  Her courage with its soothing voice. So ran\n  The days away. Upon pretext he gave\n  Of hunting deer, the merchant daily came.\n\n\nSONG III\n\n  Hear now a song about the King Djouhan.\n  The wise and powerful prince e'er followed free\n  His fancy, and the Princess Lila Sari\n  Was very happy in her vanity.\n  Since she had killed (for so she thought) the maid,\n  Young Bidasari, tainted was her joy.\n  \"The King will never take a second wife,\"\n  She mused, \"since Bidasari is now dead.\"\n  The King loved Princess Lila Sari well.\n  He gratified her every wish, and gave\n  Her all she asked, so fond was he of her.\n  Whene'er the princess was annoyed, the King,\n  With kisses and soft words would quiet her,\n  And sing to her sweet songs till she became\n  Herself again. \"Poor, little, pretty wife,\"\n  He'd say, and laugh her fretful mood away.\n  One night as he lay sleeping on his bed,\n  A dream tormented him. \"What may it mean?\"\n  He thought. \"Ah, well, to-morrow morn I'll seek\n  An explanation.\" At the dawn he sat\n  Upon a rug Egyptian, breaking fast,\n  And with him was the princess. When she had\n  The dainties tasted, the _dyangs_ arrived\n  With leaves of perfume. Then the King went forth\n  Into the garden. All the officers\n  Were there assembled. When they saw the King\n  They all were silent. To a _mantri_ spoke\n  The King: \"My uncle, come and sit thee here.\n  I fain would question thee.\" The King had scarce\n  These words pronounced, when, bowing very low,\n  The _mantri_ in respectful tones replied,\n  \"My greetings to thee, O most merciful\n  Of kings.\" He sat him near the throne. \"I dreamed\n  Last night,\" the King continued, \"that the moon\n  In her full glory fell to earth. What means\n  This vision?\" Then the _mantri_ with a smile\n  Replied: \"It means that thou shalt find a mate,\n  A dear companion, like in birth to thee,\n  Wise and accomplished, well brought up and good,\n  The one most lovable in all the land.\"\n  The King's eyes took new fire at this. He said\n  With smiles: \"I gave the Queen my promise true\n  That never I would take a second wife\n  Until a fairer I could find than she.\n  And still she is so lovely in my eyes,\n  Her equal cannot anywhere be found.\n  You'd take her for a flow'r. Yet when arise\n  Her storms of anger, long it takes to calm\n  Her mind, so waspish is her character.\n  The thought of this doth sadden me. Should one\n  Not satisfy her heart's desire, she flies\n  Into a passion and attempts to kill\n  Herself. But 'tis my destiny--'tis writ.\n  The Queen is like a gem with glint as bright\n  As lightning's flash. No one can ever be,\n  I tell thee now, so beautiful to me.\"\n  The _mantri_ smiled. \"What thou dost say is just,\n  O King, but still if thou shouldst someone find\n  More beautiful, thou yet couldst keep thy word.\n  The beauty of the Queen may fade away.\n  The princess thou shalt wed, O King, hath four\n  High qualities. She must, to be thy queen,\n  Be nobly born, and rich, and fair, and good.\"\n  The prince replied: \"O uncle mine, thy words\n  Are true. Full many princesses there live,\n  But hard it is to find these qualities.\n  The Queen is good and wise and lovable.\n  I do not wish another wife to wed,\n  And wound the Queen with whom three years I've lived\n  In love and harmony. Yet if I saw\n  A quite celestial maid, perhaps I might\n  Forget, and marry her, and give the Queen\n  A gay companion.\" \"O accomplished prince,\n  Thou sayest truly. Stay long years with her\n  Thy Queen, thy first beloved, for she hath all--\n  Great beauty and intelligence.\" They bowed\n  As forth from them the King went palaceward.\n  He sat beside the Queen, and kissed her cheeks,\n  And said: \"Thy features shine with loveliness,\n  Like to a jewel in a glass. When I\n  Must leave thy side, I have no other wish\n  But to return. Like Mount Maha Mirou\n  Thou art.\" The princess said: \"Wherefore art thou\n  So spirited to-day? Thou'rt like a boy.\"\n  \"Branch of my heart, my dearest love,\" he said,\n  \"Vex not thyself. Thou know'st the adage old:\n  First one is taken with a pretty face,\n  Then wisdom comes and prudence, and, with these,\n  One loves his wife until the day of death.\n  If thus thou dost deport thyself, my dear,\n  My heart between two wives shall never be\n  Divided; thou alone shalt own it all.\"\n  The Queen was charmed to hear his loving words.\n  At night the Queen slept, but King remained\n  Awake, and watched the moon, and called to mind\n  His dream. As dawn approached he slept, and seemed\n  To hear an owl's shrill voice, like Pedalou's.\n  When it was fully day, the royal pair\n  Together broke their fast. The King went forth\n  And orders gave, in two days to prepare\n  A mighty hunt, to chase the dappled deer,\n  With men and dogs and all apparel fit.\n  Then back into the palace went the King,\n  And told the Queen, who straightway gave commands\n  For food to be made ready. At midnight\n  Behind Egyptian curtains went to rest\n  The King and Queen, but slept not. Still the dream\n  Was ever in his thoughts and worried him.\n  At dawn he said farewell unto the Queen.\n  She was all radiant, and smiling, said:\n  \"Bring me a fawn. I'll tell the servants all\n  To take good care of it, so it may grow\n  Quite tame.\" \"What we can do, my dear, we shall,\n  So all of thy desires may come to pass.\"\n  And so the King took leave, with kisses fond,\n  And, mounted on a hunter brown, set forth,\n  With velvet saddle decked with fringe of pearls.\n  Lances and shields and arrows and blow-guns\n  They bore. The wood they entered, and the beasts\n  All fled before their steps at dawn's first ray.\n  And when the sun was up, they loosed the hounds\n  With savage cries. Toward noon an animal\n  In flight they saw, and would have followed it,\n  But then up spake the King and said, \"We are\n  So hot and weary, let us linger here\n  For rest.\" One-half the company astray\n  Had gone, each striving to be first of all.\n  The King, attended by a faithful three,\n  Reclined upon the ground, and sent them forth\n  For water. So the _mantris_ went to find\n  A river or a pond, and faring far\n  To Bidasari's plaisance came at last.\n  They stopped astounded, then approached the place.\n  When they were near the lovely garden close,\n  They said: \"There was no garden here before.\n  To whom does this belong? Perchance it is\n  A spirit's bower. No human voice is heard\n  But just the cry of 'minahs' and 'bajans.'\n  Whom shall we call, lest spectres should appear?\"\n  They wandered round the ramparts, and a gate\n  Discovered, shut with heavy iron bar,\n  And vainly tried to open it. Then one\n  Of them went back, and found the King, and said:\n  \"Hail, sovereign lord, we have no water found,\n  But a _campong_ here in the desert lone,\n  As splendid as a sultan's, with all sorts\n  Of trees and flow'rs, and not a mortal there.\n  'Tis girt about with double ramparts strong.\n  No name is seen, and all the gates are shut,\n  So that we could not enter.\"\n\n                  Scarce the King\n  Had heard the _mantri's_ word when off he rushed\n  To see the fair domain. Before the gate\n  He stood astonished. \"Truly, _mantris_ mine,\n  It is as you have said. I once was here\n  And then the wood was filled with thorns and briers.\"\n  \"'Tis not a nobleman's _campong_. It must\n  Have recently been made. Now summon all\n  The _mantris_ here and see what they will say.\"\n  They called aloud, \"Oh, hasten, friends, and bring\n  The water here.\" Seven times they called, but none\n  Responded. Said the King, \"It is enough.\n  'Tis like as if one called unto the dead.\"\n\n  \"We'd best not enter,\" said the _mantris_ then,\n  \"It may be the abode of demons fell.\n  We are afraid. Why should we linger here?\n  Return, O King, for should the spirits come\n  It might to us bring evil. Thou shouldst not\n  Expose thyself to danger.\" But the King\n  Upon the _mantris_ smiled. \"Ye are afraid\n  Of demons, spectres, spirits? I've no fear.\n  Break down the barriers. I'll go alone\n  Within the precincts.\" When the gates were forced,\n  He entered all alone. The _mantris_ all\n  Were terrified lest harm should come to him.\n  They sought with him to go. He lightly said:\n  \"No, _mantris_ mine, whatever God hath willed,\n  Must happen. If in flames I were to burn,\n  In God I still should trust. 'Tis only He\n  That evil can avert. We mortal men\n  No power possess. With my own eyes I wish\n  To see this apparition. Should it be\n  The will of God, I'll come forth safe and sound.\n  Be not disturbed. In case of urgent need\n  I'll call upon ye. All await me here.\"\n  The _mantris_ made obeisance and replied,\n  \"Go, then, alone, since thou hast willed it so.\"\n  Into the plaisance strode the King. He saw\n  That all was like a temple richly decked,\n  With rugs of silk and colored tapestries\n  Of pictured clouds and wheels all radiant,\n  And lamps and candelabra hung about,\n  And lanterns bright. 'Twas like a palace rich.\n  The eyes were dazzled with magnificence.\n  And seats there were, and dainty tables rare.\n  As through the palace went the King, the more\n  Astonished he became at all he saw,\n  But nowhere found a trace of human soul.\n  Then spake the little bird: \"Illustrious King,\n  What seek'st thou here? This mansion is the house\n  Of ghosts and demons who will injure thee.\"\n  The King was filled with wonder thus to hear\n  A bird address him. But it flew away,\n  And hid behind a couch. \"The bird I'll find,\"\n  He said, and ope'd the curtains soft. He saw\n  Full stretched, upon a bed in dragon's shape,\n  A human form, in heavy-lidded sleep\n  That seemed like death, and covered with a cloth\n  Of blue, whose face betokened deepest grief.\n  \"Is it a child celestial?\" thought the King,\n  \"Or doth she feign to sleep? Awake, my sweet,\n  And let us be good friends and lovers true.\"\n  So spake the King, but still no motion saw.\n  He sat upon the couch, and to himself\n  He said: \"If it a phantom be, why are\n  The eyes so firmly shut? Perhaps she's dead.\n  She truly is of origin divine,\n  Though born a princess.\" Then he lifted high\n  The covering delicate that hid the form\n  Of Bidasari sweet, and stood amazed\n  At all the magic beauty of her face.\n  Beside himself, he cried, \"Awake, my love.\"\n  He lifted her and said, with kisses warm,\n  \"Oh, have no fear of me, dear heart. Thy voice\n  Oh, let me hear, my gold, my ruby pure,\n  My jewel virginal. Thy soul is mine.\n  Again he pressed her in his arms, and gave\n  Her many kisses, chanting love-songs low.\n  \"Thou dost not wake, O dearest one, but thou\n  Art yet alive, because I see thee breathe.\n  Sleep not too long, my love. Awake to me,\n  For thou hast conquered with thy loveliness\n  My heart and soul.\" So fell the King in love\n  With Bidasari. \"Ah, my sweet,\" he said,\n  \"In all the world of love thou'rt worthiest.\"\n  The _mantris_ grew uneasy at his stay.\n  They rose and said: \"What doth the King so long?\n  If harm befell him, what would be our fate?\n  Oh, let us call him back at once, my lords.\"\n  So one approached the palace, and cried out:\n  \"Return, O prince accomplished, to us now.\n  Already night is near. Back thou may'st come\n  To-morrow ere the dawn. We are afraid\n  Lest spirits harm thee. Come, O King, for we\n  A-hungered are, and wait for thy return.\"\n  But the illustrious prince was mad with love\n  Of Bidasari. Pensively he cried:\n  \"Branch of my heart, light of mine eyes, my love,\n  Pure gold, thou'rt like angel. Now must I\n  Depart. To-morrow I will come again.\"\n  With no more words he left her, but returned.\n  \"My heart would tell me, wert thou really dead.\n  Some trouble hast thou, dearest one?\" he cried.\n  \"What bitter grief hath caused thee thus to sleep?\"\n  He found the nobles murmuring and vexed.\n  \"O King,\" they said, \"our hearts were filled with fear\n  Lest evil had befallen thee. What sight\n  So strange hath kept thee all these hours?\" The King\n  Replied with laughter, \"There was naught to see.\"\n  But they remarked his brow o'ercast with thought,\n  And said, \"O King, thy heart is sorely vexed.\"\n  \"Nay, nay,\" the King replied, \"I fell asleep.\n  Naught did I hear except the _mantri's*_ voice.\n  It surely is the home of demons dread\n  And spirits. Let us go, lest they surprise\n  Us here.\" He seemed much moved. \"We naught have gained\n  But weariness. So let us all go home\n  To-night, and hither come again at dawn.\n  For I a promise gave the Queen to bring\n  A fawn and a _kidjang_.\" The _mantris_ said:\n  \"None have we taken yet. But game we'll find\n  To-morrow, and will save a pretty fawn.\"\n  The King, when they returned, went straight within\n  The palace. There he saw the Queen, but thought\n  Of Bidasari. \"O my love,\" he said,\n  \"To-morrow I'm resolved to hunt again,\n  And bring thee back a fawn, and win thy thanks.\n  I'm never happy when away from thee,\n  My dearest love. Thine image is engraved\n  Upon my heart.\" Then he caressed the Queen\n  And fondled her, but still his heart went out\n  To Bidasari. All night long his eyes\n  He did not close in sleep, but thought of her,\n  In all her beauty rare. Before the dawn\n  The royal couple rose. The King then gave\n  Command that those who wished should hunt again\n  With him. At sunrise forth they fared.\n\n  On Bidasari let us look again.\n  When night had gone, in loneliness she rose,\n  And ate and drank. Then to the bath perfumed\n  She went, and coming to her chamber, took\n  Some _siri_ from the betel-box. She saw\n  A _sepah_ recently in use and cast\n  It forth. She thought within herself:\n  \"Who could have used it? Someone hath been here.\"\n  She ran through all the rooms, but nothing found\n  Except the _sepah_ in the betel-box.\n  \"Had it my father been, he would have left\n  Some food for me. Oh, he is very rash\n  To leave me here alone.\" Upon the couch\n  She sat and wept, and could not tell her grief\n  To anyone. \"When we no longer may\n  Live happily,\" she said, \"'tis best to die.\n  My parents never can forgiven be,\n  To leave me here like any infidel.\n  And if I suffer, they will sorrow, too.\"\n  The _minahs_, the _bajans_, and talking birds\n  Began to sing. She took a 'broidered cloth,\n  And 'neath its folds she sweetly fell asleep.\n\n  The King's horse flew apace to the _campong_\n  Of Bidasari. All the _mantris_ said:\n  \"Thou takest not the path for hunting, sire;\n  This is but the _campong_ of demons dread\n  And spectres. They may do us deadly harm.\"\n  The great prince only laughed, and made as if\n\n  He heard not, still directing his fleet course\n  To Bidasari's garden, though they sought\n  His wishes to oppose. When they arrived\n  Before the palisades, the _mantris_ cried:\n  \"Avaunt, ye cursed demons, and begone\n  Into the thorns and briers.\" Then to the King:\n  \"If thou wilt prove the courage of thy men,\n  Lead us behind the barriers, among\n  The evil spirits. We will go with thee.\"\n  \"Nay. Let me go alone,\" the prince replied,\n  \"And very shortly I'll come forth again.\"\n  They said: \"O prince, to us thy will is law.\n  To God most high do we commend thy soul.\"\n  Alone the prince in Bidasari's home\n  Set foot. He was astonished, for he saw the bath\n  Had recently been used, and all the lamps\n  Were trimmed and full of oil. Then opening\n  The chests, he saw the traces of a meal,\n  And glasses freshly drained. The chambers all\n  He searched, and came to Bidasari's couch,\n  And, lifting up the curtains, saw her there,\n  Asleep beneath the 'broidered covering.\n  \"Tis certain that she lives,\" he said. \"Perchance\n  It is her lot to live at night, and die\n  At dawn.\" Then came he nearer yet, and gazed\n  Upon her beauty. Ling'ring tears he saw\n  Bedewed her lashes long, and all his heart\n  Was sad. Her face was beautiful. Her locks\n  Framed * with curls most gracefully. He took\n  Her in his arms and cried, with kisses warm:\n  \"Why hast thou suffered, apple of my eye?\"\n  He wept abundantly, and said: \"My gold,\n  My ruby, my carbuncle bright, thy face\n  Is like Lila Seprara's, and thy birth\n  Is pure and spotless. How could I not love\n  A being fair as thou dost seem to me?\n  Thy beauty is unspeakable; thou art\n  Above all crowns, the glory of all lands.\n  My soul adores thee. Lord am I no more\n  Of my own heart. Without thee, love, I could\n  No longer live; thou art my very soul.\n  Hast thou no pity to bestow on me?\"\n  The more he looked the more he loved. He kissed\n  Her ruby lips, and sang this low _pantoum_:\n\n\nSONG\n\n  Within a vase there stands a china rose;\n    Go buy a box of betel, dearest one.\n  I love the beauty that thine eyes disclose;\n    Of my existence, dear, thou art the sun.\n\n  Go buy a box of betel, dearest one.\n    Adorned with _sountings_ brave of sweet _campak_,\n  Of my existence, dear, thou art the sun;\n    Without thee, everything my life would lack.\n\n  Adorned with _sountings_ fair of sweet _campak_,\n    A carafe tall will hold the sherbet rare;\n  Without thee, everything my heart would lack;\n    Thou'rt like an angel come from heaven so fair.\n\n  A carafe tall will hold the sherbet rare,\n    Most excellent for woman's feeble frame.\n  Thou'rt like an angel come from heaven so fair,\n    Love's consolation, guardian of its flame.\n\n  At the approach of night the _mantris_ said,\n  \"What doth the King so long away from us?\"\n  They were disturbed, the prince seemed so unlike\n  Himself and filled with such unrestfulness.\n  \"I fear me much,\" then said a _mantri_ there,\n  \"That some mishap hath overwhelmed the King.\n  Perhaps by some bad spirit he's possessed,\n  That he to this weird spot should fain return.\"\n  One went and cried: \"Come hither, O our King!\n  The day declines; we've waited here since dawn.\"\n  The King responded to the call, and came\n  With smiling face, though pale, unto the gate:\n  \"Come here, my uncle; come and talk with me,\n  Thy King. No evil thing hath come to pass.\"\n  \"O lord supreme, most worthy prince, return.\n  If harm should come to thee, we all should die.\"\n  \"Be calm, my uncle, I will not this night\n  Return, but he may stay with me who wills.\"\n  \"O King, with spirits what hast thou to do?\n  Thy face is pale and worn, and tells of care.\"\n  The King but sighed, and said: \"My heart is full\n  Of trouble, but the will of God is good.\n  Here yesterday a fair celestial form\n  With angel face I saw. 'Twas here alone.\"\n  And so the King told all that had occurred.\n  \"Go back,\" he added. \"Leave me here with her.\n  Say to the Queen I've lingered still a day\n  For my amusement, with my retinue.\"\n  Then half the escort stayed, and half repaired\n  Back to the palace to acquaint the Queen\n  The King would stay another day and hunt.\n  When all was dark, sweet Bidasari waked\n  And saw the King, and tried to flee away.\n  He seized and kissed her. \"Ruby, gold,\" he said,\n  \"My soul, my life, oh, say, where wouldst thou go?\n  I've been alone with thee for two whole days,\n  And all the day thou wrapped in sleep didst lie.\n  Where wouldst thou go, my dove?\" The gentle girl\n  Was much afraid and trembled, and she thought:\n  \"Is it a spirit come to find me here?\n  Avaunt thee and begone, O spectre dread,\"\n  She said, amid her tears. \"No phantom I,\"\n  Replied the King; \"be not afraid. I wish\n  To marry thee.\" Then Bidasari strove\n  Again to flee. Then sang the King a song\n  That told of love and happiness. Its words\n  Astonished Bidasari, and she cried:\n  \"Art thou a pirate? Why dost thou come here?\n  Speak not such things to me. If thou shouldst be\n  Discovered by my father, he would cut\n  Thee into pieces. Thou shouldst go alone\n  To death, and find no pardon in his heart.\n  Take all my gems and hasten forth at once.\"\n  The King replied: \"'Tis not thy gems I want,\n  But thee. I am a pirate, but thy heart\n  Is all I want to steal. Should spectres come\n  In thousands, I would fear them not at all.\n  No tears, my love, bright glory of my crown.\n  Where wouldst thou go? Hast thou no pity, sweet,\n  For me? I am a powerful prince. Who dares\n  Oppose my will? Pure gold, all virginal,\n  Where wouldst thou go?\" So spake the King, and fair\n  Young Bidasari trembled more and more.\n  \"Approach me not,\" she cried, \"but let me bathe\n  My face.\" \"I'll bathe it for thee, dear,\" he said.\n  But Bidasari threw the water pure\n  Into his face. \"Not that way, child,\" he laughed;\n  \"My vesture thou hast wet. But I shall stay\n  And meet thy parents here. Oh, hearken, love.\n  I followed far the chase, and wandered here.\n  I sought a pretty fawn to take the Queen;\n  But now thy face I've seen, no more I wish\n  To go away. Oh, have no fear, my child;\n  I would not harm thee. When thy parents come,\n  I'll ask them for thy hand. I trust they'll grant\n  My prayer. I'll lead thee forth from this fair spot\n  Unto my palace. Thou shalt sit beside\n  The Queen, and live in happiness complete.\"\n  Sweet Bidasari bowed her head and wept,\n  All red with modesty. Unto herself she said:\n  \"I never thought it was a king. How rude\n  I was! I hope the King will not be vexed.\"\n  He calmed her fears with tender words of love.\n  \"Branch of my heart,\" he said, \"light of my eyes,\n  Have no more fear. Soon as thy parents fond\n  Have given their consent, I'll lead thee forth.\n  My palace is not far. A single day\n  Will take us there. It is not difficult\n  To go and come.\" Then Bidasari knew\n  It was the King of that same land. With fright\n  She nearly swooned at thought of all the woe\n  The Queen had caused her. \"O my lord,\" she said,\n  \"I'm but a subject humble. Give me not\n  The throne. I have my parents, and with them\n  Must stay.\" The King was overjoyed. \"My dear,\"\n  He said, \"by what names are thy parents known?\"\n  With low, sweet voice the tender girl replied:\n  \"Lila Djouhara is my father's name.\n  He dwelleth in Pesara.\" \"Dearest one,\n  Tell me the truth. Why have they treated thee\n  In such a fashion--why abandoned thee\n  In solitude? Thy father is not poor\n  A merchant rich is he, of birth, who hath\n  A host of slaves and servants. For what cause\n  Hath he his daughter left in this far spot?\n  He is renowned among the merchants all,\n  Both good and honest. What hath forced him here\n  Within this lonely wood to hide thee, dear?\n  Oh, tell me all; let nothing be concealed.\"\n  She thought: \"It was the fault of his own Queen.\n  But if I tell him all--he never saw\n  Me there, within the palace--should he not\n  Believe, I'll be a liar in his eyes.\"\n  She feared to speak and tell him of the Queen.\n  She thought, \"So cruel was the Queen to me\n  When she but feared a rival, what would come\n  If I should sit beside her on the throne?\"\n  Then in her sweet voice Bidasari said:\n  \"My glorious King, I am afraid to speak.\n  I am not suited to a royal throne.\n  But since thou lovest me, how dare I lie?\n  If thou dost favor me, the Queen will vex\n  Her heart. My parents fear her. 'Tis the cause\n  Why hither they have brought me. Three long months\n  Ago I came, for terror of the Queen.\"\n  She thought on all the horror of those days,\n  And choked with sobs, and could no longer talk.\n  Then tenderly the King spake to the girl:\n  \"Ah, well, my darling love, confide in me\n  The secret thy dear heart conceals. Fear naught;\n  The Queen is good and wise, and knoweth how\n  To win all hearts. Why should she render thee\n  Unhappy? Speak not thus, my pretty one;\n  The Queen could never do an evil deed.\n  When thou art near her, thou shalt see, my dear,\n  Whether she loves or hates thee.\"\n\n                                 At these words\n  Young Bidasari knew the King esteemed\n  The Queen, and felt her heart sink in her breast.\n  \"My words are true,\" she said, \"but still perchance\n  My prince cannot believe. But was I not\n  Within thy palace six or seven nights?\n  The sweat of pain became my couch, so great\n  Was my desire to see my parents dear.\n  They sent me dainties, but all the _dyangs_\n  Were kept as prisoners by the princess there.\n  She said she'd take me back herself. One day\n  I was, indeed, sent home, but scarce alive.\"\n  She told him everything that came to pass.\n  He listened stupefied, and said: \"How could\n  It be that thou wert in the palace hid,\n  And I not see thee there? Why was it thou\n  Wert not beside the Queen? I've never left\n  The palace for a single day. Where wert\n  Thou hid? Thy strange words I believe, my dear.\n  Speak without fear and let me know the whole.\"\n  Urged by the King, young Bidasari told\n  Him all. And when the conduct of the Queen\n  He learned, the King was wonder-struck. A rage\n  Most terrible possessed him. But his love\n  For Bidasari mounted higher still\n  And his compassion. \"So the Queen thus wrought!\n  I never thought hypocrisy could be\n  So great! I never in the princess saw\n  Such bent for evil. But be not, my dear,\n  Disconsolate. It is a lucky thing\n  Thou didst not quite succumb. No longer speak\n  Of that bad woman's ways. Thank God we've met!\n  So weep no more, my love. I'll give to thee\n  A throne more beautiful than hers, and be\n  Thy dear companion until death.\" \"O King,\"\n  She said: \"I have no beauty fit to grace\n  A throne. Oh, let me stay a simple maid,\n  And think of me no more.\" The King replied:\n  \"I will not give thee up. But I must still\n  Return, and meditate how I may win\n  Thee back to life complete.\" With kisses warm\n  He covered her fair face. She bowed her head,\n  And silence kept; and when the morning dawned\n  She swooned anew. It was a proof to him\n  That she had told the truth. A mortal hate\n  Then filled the prince's heart against the Queen.\n  Touched with deep pity for the maiden young,\n  He kissed her once again, and left her there,\n  So white and still, as if she lay in death.\n  What of the _mantris_? They awaited long\n  The King, in silence. Then the oldest said:\n  \"O sovereign lord, O caliph great, wilt thou\n  Not now return?\" \"I'll come again, dear heart,\"\n  He said, and sought the city. Straight he went\n  Into the palace, to the Queen, who asked:\n  \"What bringest thou from hunting?\" He replied\n  In murmurs: \"I have taken naught at all.\n  For my own pleasure I remained all night.\"\n  \"'Tis nothing, lord, provided no harm came\n  To thee. But say what thou didst seek, to stay\n  So long? I always have prepared for thee\n  The food for thy great hunts, but never yet\n  Have I received a recompense?\" The King\n  To this replied with smiles: \"Prepare afresh,\n  For I to-morrow shall depart again.\n  If I take nothing, I'll return at once.\"\n  As he caressed the Queen, upon her breast\n  He felt the little magic fish of gold\n  All safe. Then gave he quick commands to all.\n  \"I'll hunt to-morrow, and shall surely bring\n  Some wondrous game.\" Now when the princess fell\n  Asleep he found upon her heart no more\n  The little fish. \"'Tis as the maiden said,\"\n  He thought. \"The princess hath a wicked soul.\n  With such a heart I cannot go with her\n  Through life.\" Through all the night he could not sleep,\n  But thought upon the girl. He was as sad\n  As though he heard a touching song. At dawn\n  The royal couple rose and went to bathe.\n  The King into the palace came again\n  And sat upon the throne adorned with gems.\n  He donned the royal robe to wear before\n  The dear young girl. A vestment 'twas of silk,\n  All gold embroidered, with a tunic bright,\n  Of orange hue. His mien was most superb,\n  As doth become a mighty king. He bore\n  A quiver of Ceylon, most deftly wrought.\n  When all the _mantris_ had assembled there,\n  The King within the palace once more went\n  And met the Queen. Caressing her he took\n  The little fish that lay upon her breast.\n  The princess wept, and at the door she cried:\n  \"Why takest thou my little ornament?\"\n  The great King gave no heed, and went away,\n  At dawn's glad hour, when birds begin to sing.\n  Swords gleamed and lances shone, and through the wood\n  They hastened on, with quivers and blow-guns,\n  And seemed a walking city.\n\n                  Now again\n  To Bidasari let us turn. When dawn\n  Appeared, she rose and sat in loneliness,\n  Her face grew still more beautiful. Her state\n  Astonished her. \"Perhaps it is the King\n  Who hath this wonder wrought. How happy I\n  To be no longer dead!\" She washed her face\n  And felt still sad, but with her pensiveness\n  A certain joy was mingled, for her pain\n  Was passed. Her grief the \"talking bird\" allayed\n  With songs about the mighty King and love.\n\n\nSONG\n\n    There's _siri_ in a golden vase,\n    Good Dang Melini plants a rose;\n    The King admires a pretty face,\n    To-day he'll come to this fair close.\n\n    Good Dang Melini plants a rose,\n    Here in the garden they will meet;\n    To-day he'll come to this fair close,\n    To man and maiden love is sweet.\n\n    Here in the garden they will meet,\n    Go seek the fairest fruit and flower;\n    To man and maiden love is sweet,\n    The King is coming to the bower.\n\n  Lo! At this very instant they approached.\n  Dear Bidasari hid behind the couch.\n  The King searched everywhere, and found at last\n  The maiden hiding, bathed in bitter tears.\n  Then kissing her, the King inquired: \"My love,\n  Bright glory of my crown; pray tell to me\n  Why thou art sad.\" He dried her tears. But she\n  Still hung her head in silence. Then the King\n  For elephants and horses to be sent\n  Gave orders. \"Go with _mantris_ two at once,\n  And bring the merchant and his wife, and bid\n  Forty _dyangs_ to hasten here forthwith.\"\n  Then went the _mantris_ forth in haste, and found\n  The merchant and his wife and said, \"The King\n  Inviteth ye to come.\" Then through the wood\n  The parents hurried to the plaisance fair\n  Of Bidasari, there to meet the King.\n  Before his Majesty they bowed with fear.\n  The great King smiled. \"Be not afraid,\" he said,\n  \"My uncle and my mother. Let us go\n  Within, to see thy lovely child. I make\n  Ye now my parents. We have friendly been,\n  And still shall be.\" Beside the King they saw\n  Fair Bidasari seated, as with steps\n  Still hesitating they the palace sought.\n  The father fond was glad within his heart,\n  His daughter was so beautiful. She seemed\n  A princess lovely of the Mount Lidang.\n  \"Dear Bidasari, sweetest child,\" they said,\n  \"Behind the King, dear daughter, thou should stand.\"\n  She made as if to go, but still the King\n  Restrained her, \"No, my pretty one,\" he said;\n  \"Thy place is at my side. So God hath willed.\"\n  The oldest _mantri_, called for counsel, spoke:\n  \"Lila Djouhara good, what sayest thou?\n  Art thou not glad to see thy daughter made\n  A queen? What happiness hath come to thee!\"\n  The merchant bowed before the King, and said:\n  \"Make her thy servant, not thy wife, my lord.\n  Thy glorious Queen we fear. She e'er hath shown\n  For Bidasari hatred dire, because\n  A child so lovely might attract the King.\"\n  The monarch hearing him thus speak, still more\n  Toward him was borne. \"My uncle,\" then he cried,\n  \"Have no more fear. But never shall I make\n  A servant of thy daughter.\"\n\n                  Then he gave\n  Command to build a castle in the wood.\n  And all the workers came, and built it there,\n  With ramparts three. As if by magic then\n  A golden palace rose. The outer gate\n  Was iron, loaded down with arms, and held\n  By demons and by Ethiopians.\n  These were the keepers of the gates, with steeds\n  Untamed. With swords unsheathed they stood alert\n  And waited for the King's commands. Of brass\n  All chiselled was the second gate, supplied\n  With cannons and with powder, guarded safe\n  By beings supernatural. The third\n  Was silver, such as may be seen in far\n  Eirak. The beauty of the castle was\n  Beyond compare! From far it seemed to be\n  As double, like an elephant with two\n  White ivory tusks. Where may its like be found?\n  Three diamonds pure reflected all the light,\n  Big as a melon. Now the castle built,\n  The King a plaisance beautiful desired\n  With gay pavilions, and all kinds of plants.\n  The middle booth nine spacious rooms displayed,\n  One for the royal audiences, adorned\n  And pleasant as a bed of flowers.\n\n                  The King\n  A festival maintained for forty days,\n  With games and sports and dances to divert.\n  And never was such animation seen!\n  All ate and drank to sound of music sweet.\n  They passed the loving-cup and drank to each\n  In turn.\n\n                  For forty days resounded there\n  The gongs and _gendarangs_, and joyous tones\n  Of gay _serouni_ and _nefiri_ glad.\n  \"How beautiful is Bidasari!\" all\n  Exclaimed; \"a thousand times more lovely than\n  The Queen. Thrice happy are the merchant now\n  And his good wife; by marriage they're allied\n  To our great King, though strangers to the land.\n  We count it strange that Bidasari's face\n  In naught is like the merchant nor his wife.\n  Who knoweth but that she, in mortal shape,\n  An angel fair may be? Full many slaves\n  The merchant hath, but never children own.\"\n  \"He found her when a babe, upon the shore,\"\n  Another said, \"and brought her up.\"\n\n                  The King\n  Heard all their words. He thought: \"It is the truth\n  And this I take as proof of her high birth.\n  She certainly is noble or come down\n  From heaven.\"\n\n                  When four days had fled, the wives\n  Of _mantris_ dressed the beauteous girl. They clad\n  Her form in satins soft of Egypt, shot\n  With gold, adorned with precious stones inset\n  And many gems. Her beauty was enhanced\n  The more, till she a radiant angel seemed.\n  She wore a tunic, crimson and pomegranate,\n  With buttons shaped like butterflies. She was\n  Adorned with _padaka_ of five quaint clasps,\n  And belt called _naga souma_. Ear-rings rich\n  She had, of diamonds set in gold, and wrought\n  Most wondrously, as bright as daylight's gleam;\n  A ring most marvellous and rare she wore\n  Called _astakouna_, and another named\n  _Gland kana_, and a third from far Ceylon,\n  Studded with precious stones. Her eyes were like\n  The stars of orient skies. Her teeth were black,\n  Her face like water shone. Her chiselled nose\n  Was prominent and Mike a flower fresh culled.\n  When she was dressed, upon a couch of pearls\n  Her mother put her. Supple was her form,\n  And white, as she reclined, by many maids\n  Surrounded. In his royal garb the prince\n  Was clad, and dazzling to the eyes of all\n  Who saw. He wore a kingly crown which shone\n  With diamonds bright and lucent amethysts\n  And many stones, and all majestic seemed.\n  Then rice was brought. The King with pleasure ate\n  And what was left he gave the _mantris'_ wives.\n  When all had finished he perfumed himself\n  And gazed upon his lovely wife. Her face\n  And form were charming. Her soft tresses curled\n  In grace. Her eyes still kept the trace of tears,\n  Which made her lovelier. The silken folds\n  Of soft Egyptian curtains fell. They were alone.\n  \"Awake, my darling,\" said the prince at dawn,\n  \"Crown of my life, awake, my pretty one.\"\n  Then Bidasari waked and said, with tears:\n  \"My friend, I had all sorts of wondrous dreams.\n  I saw a palm-tree tall with tufted limbs,\n  And fruits all ripe.\" When three days more had fled\n  And all the people saw and loud acclaimed,\n  Then Bidasari took the rank of Queen.\n  The King o'erloaded her with gifts and loved\n  Her tenderly. \"Oh, let us live and die\n  Together, dear, and, as the days go by,\n  Think more of one another, and our love\n  Preserve, as in the hollow of the hand\n  Oil is upheld, nor falls a single drop.\"\n  So spake the King.\n\n                  The merchant and his wife\n  Were soon established in the neighborhood,\n  Near to Queen Bidasari's palace grand.\n  A hundred servants had they to fulfil\n  Their orders. They sent gifts to all their friends,\n  And food to last a month.\n\n                  A certain day\n  It chanced that Bidasari said: \"O King,\n  Why goest thou no more within the gates\n  Of that thine other palace? Of a truth\n  Queen Lila Sari will be vexed, because\n  Thou hast abandoned her so long a time.\n  She'll think that I have kept thee from her side\n  Unwilling thou shouldst go.\" So, with all sorts\n  Of words, fair Bidasari strove to urge\n  The King to visit Lila Sari. \"I\n  Will go to-morrow,\" finally he said.\n  He went, when morning came, and met the Queen.\n  She turned him back, and with sharp, bitter words\n  Reproached him. \"Wretched one, I will not see\n  Thy face. I love thee not. I hate thee. Go!\n  Lila Djouhara's son-in-law, thou'rt not\n  To me an equal. Thy new wife's an ape,\n  Who liveth in the woods.\"\n\n                  But when the King\n  Heard these vociferations of the Queen,\n  He said: \"Branch of my heart, light of my eyes,\n  Oh, be not vexed, my dear. It was not I\n  Who wrong began, but thou didst cause it all.\n  For thou didst hide thy deed from me, and drive\n  Me on to this extremity. Oh, why\n  Art thou now angry with me? If thou wilt\n  But love her, and attach thy heart to hers,\n  She'll pardon thee, and take thee as a friend.\"\n  As more and more enraged the Queen became,\n  Her wrath with strong reproaches overflowed.\n  \"Depart from here, accursed of God! Thou art\n  No longer husband mine. Go live with her\n  Whom God hath struck, but whom thou dost delight\n  To honor. Formerly of noble blood\n  Thou wert, but now no more than broken straw.\n  Thou needst not further try to flatter me.\n  Though thou shouldst purify thyself seven times, false one,\n  I'd not permit thee to approach my side.\"\n  The King grew angry and replied: \"Tis thou\n  Who art despicable. Thy cunning tricks\n  Are worthless now. Thy jealousy insane\n  Was without cause, and common were thy acts.\n  Thy wit is much below thy beauty.\n  Will follow thee, should I protection cease.\"\n  \"Have I forgot my noble birth?\" she asked.\n\n  \"But thou hast erred, to lower thine high estate\n  To people of such base extraction. Here\n  And everywhere thy shame is known, that thou\n  Art wedded to a gadabout. Is it\n  For princes thus to wed a merchant's child?\n  She ought far in the woods to dwell, and know\n  Most evil destiny.\" The King but smiled\n  And said: \"If this event is noised abroad,\n  'Tis thou who wilt receive an evil name.\n  For who in all the land would dare prevent\n  The King from marrying? I ought to take\n  From thee all I have given. But before\n  The people I've no wish to humble thee.\n  Is it because I met thy every wish\n  That thou art grown so bad? Most evil hath\n  Thy conduct been, and I with thee am wroth,\"\n  And in hot anger rushed the King away,\n  And straight repaired to Bidasari's side.\n\n\n\nSONG IV\n\n\n  This song will tell again about the prince\n  Of Kembajat, most powerful. He was chased\n  By fell _garouda_, horrid bird of prey,\n  And sought another land. His way he took\n  Toward Indrapura. At the break of dawn\n  A daughter fair was born, a princess true,\n  Within a boat that lay upon a shore.\n  The Queen and he abandoned her, and went\n  Back to the royal palace and for days\n  Bemoaned her fate. Of her they nothing heard.\n  \"Alas my child!\" the father cried, \"my dear,\n  In whose care art thou now? We do not know\n  If thou art dead or living. Thus thy sire\n  Hath no repose. Light of mine eyes, my love,\n  My purest gold, our hearts are torn with grief.\n  An evil fate was ours to hide thee there.\n  We do repent the deed. To think that thou\n  Perchance hath fallen among the poorest folk!\n  A slave perhaps thou art!\" The prince's son\n  Remarked the sorrow of his parents dear,\n  And was profoundly moved. \"Have I,\" he asked,\n  \"A sister? Tell me why have ye concealed\n  Her far away? Did ye not care for her?\n  Was she a burden that ye must forsake\n  Her thus? Doth shame not fill your parents' hearts?\"\n  But when he heard the tale in full, he said:\n  \"O father, let me go to seek for her,\n  My sister dear. If I succeed I'll bring\n  Her back to thee.\" \"Oh, leave us not, my son,\"\n  The father said. \"Thou art our only heir.\n  Like a tamed bird upon our shoulders fain\n  We've carried thee, and watched thee, day and night.\n  Why shouldst thou leave us now? Oh, go not forth.\n  Vex not thyself about thy sister dear.\n  From travellers we shall get news of her,\n  And her abode discover.\"\n\n                        Then the prince\n  Bowed low and said: \"My father, lord, and King,\n  I am but strengthened in my wish to go\n  And find my sister. Let me now depart,\n  And seek for news of her.\" The King replied:\n  \"Well, go, my dearest son; thy heart is good.\n  Though but a child thou still dost bear a brain.\"\n  Then summoned the young prince the merchants all,\n  And bought much goods and questioned them in turn\n  About all neighboring villages and camps.\n  They told whate'er they knew most willingly,\n  For much the young prince was beloved by them.\n  Among them was a youth of handsome face,\n  Fair Bidasari's foster-brother tall.\n  Amid the strangers sat he near the throne;\n  His name was Sinapati. He was brave\n  And wise. Now as he watched the prince he thought,\n  \"How strangely like dear Bidasari's face\n  Is his, as when a reed is split in twain\n  There is no difference between the halves.\"\n  His home he left when Bidasari fair\n  Became the Queen. He thought of her and wept.\n  The prince observed him there, and said, with smiles:\n  \"Young man, my friend, from what far town art thou?\n  Why dost thou weep so bitterly? What thoughts\n  Arise in thee and make thy visage dark?\"\n  Young Sinapati bowed and said: \"My lord,\n  I came from Indrapura, in a ship,\n  My wares to sell. For that I do not weep.\n  But sorrow cometh to my heart whene'er\n  I think upon my home, and brothers dear,\n  And sisters.\"\n\n                  At these words the prince rejoiced.\n  He thought, \"From him some news I'll surely learn.\"\n  Sherbets and dainties then to all the folk\n  He offered, and the cup went 'round from dawn\n  Till noon, and then the merchants went away;\n  But the young prince kept Sinapati there.\n  Now he already strong affection felt\n  For him and said: \"My friend, toward thee I'm moved\n  And look upon thee as a brother dear.\n  Thou dost at Indrapura live, but who\n  May be thy patron there?\" Then with a smile\n  Young Sinapati said: \"My patron's called\n  Lila Djouhara, merchant great. He owns\n  Some six or seven swift ships, and toileth more\n  Than ever since he Bidasari took\n  As child.\" In two days' time the young prince went\n  With Sinapati to his father's house.\n  \"I bring thee news,\" he said, \"but nothing yet\n  Is sure. Behold from Indrapura far\n  A youth, from whom I've things of import great.\n  A merchant of Pesara, very rich,\n  My sister must have found. All well agrees\n  With what to me thou saidst. Now must we seek\n  For confirmation of the glad report.\"\n  To Sinapati gold and gems they gave.\n  Then spake the King: \"If this be so I'll send\n  An envoy bearing richest gifts, and thanks\n  Within a letter writ.\"\n\n                  The youthful prince\n  Bowed low and said: \"Oh, send me on this quest!\n  Lila Djouhara I would like to see.\n  Perhaps he's virtuous and just. If I\n  Am made full sure it is my sister dear,\n  I'll send a messenger. And if it be\n  I'll bring her back.\"\n\n                  The King was moved\n  To hear his son thus speak. \"O dearest child,\"\n  He said: \"I'm very loath to let thee go.\n  But thou must many horsemen take with thee,\n  Lest thou shouldst long be absent.\"\n\n                  \"Why should I\n  Be long away?\" the prince replied, with bows;\n  \"For if Lila Djouhara will not let\n  Her come, I shall forthwith return to thee.\"\n  The King could now no more object. He gave\n  Commands to make an expedition great.\n  With richest gifts, and food, and princely things,\n  And sent him forth with blessings on his head.\n  \"Stay not too long; thou art my only hope,\"\n  The King exclaimed; \"I'm getting old, my son,\n  And thou my heir upon the throne must be.\"\n  They started early on the fourteenth day\n  Of that same month. And Sinapati rode\n  Beside the Prince.\n\n                  Some went on foot and some\n  On horses. When they far had gone, the prince\n  Said to the youth: \"Now listen, friend. When we\n  Arrive thou must not name my family\n  And rank. I'm someone from another town.\n  It doth not please me to declare my rank\n  To strangers. Should the girl my sister prove,\n  Thou mayst tell all, for I shall soon return.\"\n  Thus speaking, the young prince his way maintained,\n  And soon arrived near to the city sought.\n  He Sinapati left, and went within\n  The gates, with four companions, true as steel,\n  And six attendants. They at once repaired\n  To the _campong_ of good Lila Djouhara.\n  They found it closed, with a forsaken look.\n  \"There's no one here. The King hath taken all\n  Away, both old and young,\" said the _mandar_.\n  Then Sinapati beat his breast and said:\n  \"What hath become of my dear patron, then?\"\n  \"Be not disturbed. No harm hath come to him.\n  The merchant with the King hath gone, because\n  The King hath married Bidasari fair,\n  And made of her a queen, and built a fine\n  New palace in the country wild. There all\n  Is joy and happiness.\" Beyond all count\n  Was Sinapati glad to hear these words.\n  Then to the prince he said: \"My gracious lord,\n  Lila Djouhara's near at hand. He is\n  In highest favor with the King, and bears\n  A title new.\" They hurried forth to find\n  His residence. \"It is the left _campong_,\"\n  Remarked a country-man. \"Thy lord is grand\n  And powerful now, and master of us here.\n  The King hath now become his son-in-law.\"\n  Then Sinapati went within the gates\n  And saw his mother there. Her heart was touched.\n  She kissed him and inquired, \"Whom hast thou brought?\"\n  \"It is a friend,\" he answered. \"Come, my lord,\"\n  She to the young prince said, \"enter and rest.\"\n  \"He's so like Bidasari,\" to herself\n  She said. \"What is thy name, my brave young man,\n  Thou seemest nobly born. In very truth\n  Thou'rt handsome and well mannered.\" Then the prince\n  Said: \"Poutra Bangsawan I'm called. Thy son\n  I've followed here.\" But Sinapati paid\n  Him homage, and they knew him for a prince.\n  Before his door young Sinapati slept\n  At night to guard him safe. Next day there came\n  An invitation from Lila Mengindra\n  (Before, Djouhara). So they started forth.\n  Lila Mengindra was astonished quite\n  To see the prince's face so beautiful.\n  \"Who is this most distinguished stranger here?\"\n  He asked himself. \"My master, speak a word\n  To Poutra Bangsawan, a friend of mine,\"\n  Said Sinapati. So the old man turned\n  And spoke unto the prince, \"Come here, my son,\n  And sit thee near thy father.\" He felt drawn\n  To him, he looked so much like Bidasari.\n  The young prince smiled and on the dais sat.\n  \"What is thy visit's purpose?\" then inquired\n  The good old man. The prince with bows polite\n  Replied: \"I'm but a humble stranger, come\n  To find my sister. I bespeak thine aid.\"\n  \"Be not afraid, my son, but trust in me,\n  Nor fear to give thy sister's name. If thou\n  Wilt have it so I'll take thee for a son;\n  I love thee for thou hast a face so like\n  My daughter's.\" Then the brave young prince began\n  And told his sister's story, how she was\n  In time of stress abandoned on the shore.\n  \"And if I only knew,\" he said, \"where now\n  She is, I'd be her master's willing slave.\"\n  Now when Lila Mengindra heard his tale\n  His joy was quite unspeakable. His love\n  For Bidasari's brother greater grew.\n  With smiles he asked: \"Now, Poutra Bangsawan,\n  Say of what family thou art, that I\n  May aid thee in thy quest, and help thee find\n  Thy sister.\" Then the young prince bowed his head\n  And pondered, \"Shall I lie?\" For he knew not\n  If 'twere his sister. Lila saw his mood\n  And said: \"Be not disturbed. It is most sure\n  That thy dear sister's here. So speak the truth,\n  That my old heart may be surcharged with joy.\n  Thy sister's seated on a throne, and like\n  A brilliant jewel is her family.\n  Be no more sorry. As for me, my heart\n  Is full of joy.\"\n\n                  The prince looked in his face\n  And said: \"Can I confide in him? I am\n  A stranger here and fear to be deceived.\"\n  Said Sinapati: \"Speak not thus, I pray,\n  For everybody knows this man can tell\n  Ten-carat gold from dross. Now list, my lord.\n  Although he bids me silent be, a prince\n  He is, son of a powerful king, and comes\n  To seek his sister.\" Then within his heart\n  The former merchant much rejoiced, as if\n  He'd found a mountain of pure gems. He paid\n  His homage to the prince in proper form,\n  And took him into his abode, to meet\n  His wife and all within. The spouses two\n  To him exclaimed: \"Dear prince, in our old age\n  We're very happy. When thy sister sweet\n  We found, o'erjoyed were we. And now the King\n  Hath married her, and raised her to the throne.\n  He hath our family to noble rank\n  Upraised, and covered us with benefits.\"\n  Then smiling said the prince: \"I learn with joy\n  My sister sweet is here. When may I go\n  Before the King and see her? For I've come\n  To take her home. And yet I fear the King\n  Will never let her go away from him.\n  When I have seen her I'll return again.\"\n  In three days' time the King gave audience.\n  The former merchant with him took the prince,\n  Who sent the richest presents on before.\n  The princeling was most gorgeously attired\n  And bore himself with haughty dignity.\n  His robe was rich, his tunic violet\n  And fire. His many-colored turban bore\n  Bright agates. At his girdle hung his kriss.\n  He was entirely clad as prince should be,\n  And bracelets wore with little bells and rings.\n  His leggings were embroidered with bright flowers\n  Called _pouspa angatan_. He seemed divine--\n  His beauty was extraordinary. Pearls\n  In numbers countless covered all his garb;\n  An amulet he had with sacred verse\n  From the Koran, a diamond pure. He rode\n  A steed most richly housed, with _shabraque _decked\n  With gleaming jewels casting rays of light.\n  Twas thus the prince set out to meet the King.\n  Lila Mengindra with him went. The prince\n  Approached the King's pavilion, and at once\n  The King remarked his beauty and his mien\n  Of noble grace. \"Who can he be?\" he thought.\n  Meanwhile the prince dismounted and appeared\n  Before the King. Full seven times he bowed\n  And said, \"O may your happiness increase,\n  Illustrious sovereign!\"\n\n                  Then the King with smiles\n  Lila Mengindra questioned, \"Who is this\n  Thou hither bringest, of such noble mien\n  And amiable face?\"\n\n                  With humble bow\n  The former merchant said: \"This slave of thine\n  Has come from lands remote, from Kembajat,\n  Upon the seashore, since thy Majesty\n  He wished to see. His presents few he sent\n  Before him, which he hopes thou wilt accept.\"\n  The former merchant thought: \"I would his rank\n  Divulge. But some might think I lied because\n  The King hath Bidasari wed, and if\n  She knew she was a princess born she might\n  Be very vain and haughty.\"\n\n                  To the prince\n  The King was very friendly. \"Come and sit\n  Here by my side,\" he said, \"for thee I deem\n  A brother.\" \"Let me here remain, my lord,\n  I am a poor unworthy servitor.\n  I hope that thou wilt pardon me. I would\n  I might become a subject of thy crown.\"\n  The King thought: \"This may be some royal heir\n  Who here hath wandered. He resembles much\n  Our Bidasari, Pity 'tis that he\n  Unto another nation doth belong.\"\n  Then pleasantly he said: \"Pray, truly tell\n  What is thine origin? Keep nothing back.\n  What is thy name? The whole truth let me know.\"\n  The young prince bowed him low and said: \"My name\n  Is Poutra Bangsawan, of family\n  Most humble. I am searching everywhere\n  To find a sister lost. When she is found\n  I shall return at once.\" Then said the King:\n  \"Where is thy sister? I will help thy search.\n  Stay here with me a month or two, that we\n  May learn to know each other and become\n  Fast friends.\" The young prince then obeisance made\n  And said: \"I bear thine orders on my head.\n  Thou art a king illustrious, and I\n  A humble servitor. I am the son\n  Of good Lila Mengindra, but for long\n  I've absent been. My sister dear I seek.\n  Thine aid I do bespeak. From Kembajat\n  I come, a subject of thy father there, the King.\n  Forgive me, lord, for now thou knowest all.\"\n  The King rejoiced to hear a voice that seemed\n  So much like Bidasari's, and inquired\n  Of Sinapati, \"Tell me now his race.\"\n  Then Sinapati bowed and said: \"My lord,\n  Of princes and of caliphs is his race.\n  His kingdom, not so far, is most superb;\n  His palace is most beautiful and grand.\n  Swift ships within the harbor lie, all well\n  Equipped.\" At this the King enchanted was,\n  To find a prince was brother to his wife.\n  Still more he asked and Sinapati said:\n  \"Because his realm was ravaged by the foe\n  He hath misfortunes suffered manifold.\"\n  Then knew the King he was of royal blood\n  And had adversity experienced.\n  The King came from his throne and said, \"My friend,\n  My palace enter.\" So the King and prince\n  Went in. They met fair Bidasari there.\n  She sat beside a Chinese window quaint,\n  All choicely carved. She saw the King and thought,\n  \"What fine young man is this he bringeth here?\"\n  When they were seated all, the young prince looked\n  At Bidasari: \"Beautiful is she,\"\n  He thought, \"my sister dear, and very like\n  My father.\" Then the King with smiling face\n  Said: \"Bidasari, darling, speak to him.\n  He is thy younger brother, come to seek\n  Thee here. From Kembajat he came. And thy\n  Dear father mourns for thee the livelong day.\"\n  At this fair Bidasari sighed. She bowed\n  Her head and silence kept. She much was moved\n  Because she had not known her parents true,\n  But fancied them Djouhara and his wife.\n  \"I'm but a merchant's daughter,\" finally\n  She said. \"Things all uncertain this young prince\n  Hath told. If I'm the daughter of a King,\n  Why hath he left me here, and never sought\n  For me through all these years? 'Tis not so far\n  From here to Kembajat.\" The young prince bowed.\n  \"Thy words I bear upon my head,\" he said,\n  \"O sister dear. Pray banish from thy heart\n  All hatred. If thou'rt lowly born, I am\n  Likewise. Our realm was ravaged at thy birth.\n  But shortly afterward fair peace returned,\n  And to his own my father came again.\n  I've seen how much he suffers in his heart.\n  Thy name he never utters without tears--\n  He never hath forgotten thee. Forgive\n  Him, then, in what he was remiss. Except\n  For stern necessity he never would\n  Have thee abandoned.\"\n\n                  Then the King with smiles\n  Said: \"Speak to him, my dear. He tells the truth.\n  Thy parents wandered through a desert land\n  Beneath a cruel sun. Impossible\n  It was to carry thee through brier and brush.\"\n  Down at his sister's feet the young prince knelt.\n  Then Bidasari clasped him in her arms.\n  The brave young prince to them recounted all\n  The sorrows of his parents. Much he wept,\n  And they wept, too, as he the story told.\n  Then sat they down to dine. And afterward\n  They _siri_ took and perfumes of all kinds.\n  Then the young prince took leave. \"Where goest thou,\n  My brother?\" asked the King. \"I fain would go\n  Straight home to my dear parents,\" said the prince.\n  But, with a voice affectionate, the King\n  Replied: \"Seek not Lila Mengindra. Here\n  Thou shouldst remain, for thou hast met within\n  This palace thy dear sister. There is room\n  Enough for thee. Stay here with all thy folk\n  And retinue.\" The prince bowed low, and forth\n  Unto the merchant went, and to him said:\n  \"Within the palace now I shall remain\n  With all my retinue, for thus the King\n  Commands.\" The merchant said: \"'Tis very well\n  For where can one lodge better than within\n  The palace?\" So the prince returned, with all\n  His people, to the palace of the King.\n  Then all the _mantris_ came, and festivals\n  And feasts were held. As long as he remained\n  At Indrapura, the young prince received\n  All courtesies. And Bidasari fair\n  Was known as daughter of a mighty king.\n  The news was carried far and wide, and all\n  Repeated how her brother brave had come\n  To seek for her.\n\n                  Queen Lila Sari heard\n  And was surprised. She sighed in solitude,\n  And felt a woe unspeakable. She said\n  To a _mandar_: \"I was in too much haste.\n  On the _dyangs_ I counted, but they come\n  No more. All four have gone and homage paid\n  To Bidasari. All my tricks are foiled.\n  In no one can I trust.\" Dang Lila then\n  Approached and said: \"Acts of unfaithfulness\n  Bring never happiness. God's on the side\n  Of loyalty. Now those _dyangs_ are sad\n  And languish after thee, but fear the King,\n  Dost thou not think, O Queen, thou ill hast wrought?\n  For while the King is absent none will come\n  Thy heart to cheer.\" The Queen replied with ire:\n  \"Seek not to consolation give. The King\n  Esteems me not. I'll not humiliate\n  Myself before him. Who is that young prince,\n  So called, who hither came? A pirate's son\n  He well may prove, and calls himself a prince.\n  Go ye, _dyangs_, pay service to the King,\n  And he may favor ye as he did her.\"\n  She seemed most wroth. But she repented sore\n  In truth, and pined away in sorrow deep.\n  In other days she had no wish nor whim\n  Unsatisfied. Now all were for the King.\n  The Queen's heart angrier grew from day to day\n  As if a scorpion's sting had wounded her.\n  And her distress grew greater when she thought\n  Upon the love of other days. Her heart\n  Was inconsolable because so bitterly\n  She missed the pomp and glory of her court.\n  But Bidasari to the King one day\n  Said: \"Send back these _mendars_; for if they all\n  Stay here, Queen Lila Sari all alone\n  Will be.\" The King with smiles replied: \"Oh, no!\n  I will not let them go. She is so fell\n  And barbarous, she no one loves. She is\n  Much better all alone.\" Then to the King\n  Fair Bidasari said: \"Thine anger was\n  Too prompt. She spoke in wrath because she was\n  Accustomed to a court. In what to thee\n  Hath she been wanting, that thou shouldst repel\n  Her thus? Thou gav'st her love, and now thou dost\n  Abandon her in sorrow. Be not thus\n  Incensed with her, for should she come to want\n  The shame would be reflected on thy head.\"\n  The King's face lighted, and he said: \"My dear,\n  I went to see her, but she drove me forth\n  With bitter words. Her conduct was beyond\n  All bearing. And she heaped on me abuse.\"\n  But Princess Bidasari said: \"Dwell not\n  On that, my friend. She was disturbed by wrath\n  And jealousy. In other days thou didst\n  Embrace and kiss her. Now she is alone.\n  And thou perchance didst somehow hurt\n  Or bruise her body.\" All his anger left\n  The King at this. He said: \"O purest soul,\n  Thou speakest well and wisely. How could I\n  Not love thee, dear, and cling to thee for life?\n  Oh, never may we separated be!\n  Branch of my heart, light of my eyes, thou dost\n  But good desire. Thou'rt all the world to me.\n  I'll go to her, since thou doth ask. Perchance\n  A reconciliation may be made.\n  But she must first admit her faults. If she\n  Repentance shows, to see her I will go.\"\n  The merchant's wife had come and heard these words.\n  Her warm tears fell. She thought within herself,\n  \"My daughter hath no vengeance in her heart.\"\n  Then Dang Bidouri brought delicious rice\n  Unto the King and Queen. They ate and drank,\n  And stronger grew their love from hour to hour.\n  Then gave the King commands to call the prince.\n  He came with smiling face and graceful bows.\n  \"Sit here beside us,\" said the King, and all\n  The three dined there together, royal ones,\n  Surrounded by deft servants and _dyangs_.\n  They chatted gayly, and, with laughter, ate.\n  When all was finished, from the betel-box\n  The King of _siri_ took, perfumed himself,\n  And then the prince retired.\n\n                  When two short months\n  Had fled, the prince bethought him of his home\n  And parents. To himself he said, \"I'll go.\"\n  He gave commands to preparation make\n  For his departure. \"I am loath to leave\n  My sister,\" he to Sinapati said.\n  \"My life is joyous here. But there at home\n  I've left my parents in solicitude.\"\n  Then Sinapati bowed and said, \"With thee\n  I'll go.\"\n\n\nSONG V\n\n  A certain day the _mantris_ came\n  Before the King, in the pavilion grand.\n  And with them came the youthful prince, and cast\n  Himself before the throne. The King with smiles\n  Said: \"Sit thou at my side, my brother dear,\n  I have not seen thee for a day entire.\"\n  The princeling bowed and said: \"My gracious lord\n  If thou wilt pardon me, I would return\n  And give my parents dear the joyful news.\n  My father bade me seek my sister lost,\n  And still he nothing knows of her good fate.\"\n  The King replied with sorrow: \"Brother mine,\n  Why wilt thou go so soon? We scarcely are\n  Acquainted, and I have not had enough\n  Of thy dear company.\" The prince replied:\n  \"Oh, be not sorrowful, my gracious lord.\n  As soon as I have my dear father seen\n  I'll tell him what good things have come to pass.\n  'Twill soothe his heart to hear my sister's joy.\n  My parents will be glad in learning all\n  Thy goodness great. And pray consider me\n  Thy subject leal. Soon I'll return again.\"\n  The King's emotion grew. With pleasant voice\n  He said: \"Take counsel of thy sister. Heed\n  What she may say.\" They found the Queen within,\n  Fair Bidasari, and attending her\n  Dyang Agous Djouhari. All sat down\n  And took some _siri_ from the betel-box.\n  The Queen to the young prince then spoke: \"Come here.\n  My brother, why have I thy face not seen\n  For two long days?\" With bows the prince replied:\n  \"I've had a multitude of things to do.\n  Thus came I not; for my companions all\n  Seek homeward to return. So I must take\n  My leave of thee upon the morrow morn,\n  When pales the silver moon before the dawn.\"\n  The Queen was grieved to hear these words, and shed\n  A flood of tears. Her tender heart was touched.\n  Beside herself with sorrow she exclaimed:\n  \"O prince illustrious! How canst thou go,\n  Since we have met? I've loved thee from the time\n  I knew thou wert my brother. I am grieved\n  To hear thee say thou wilt so soon depart.\n  Of low extraction must I be! 'Twas wrong\n  For thee to call thyself my brother. I\n  A poor and feeble orphan am, and how\n  Should I the love deserve of a great prince?\"\n  When this he heard the prince bowed low his head\n  And was much troubled. \"Sister sweet,\" he said,\n  \"Grieve not like this. I only do return\n  Because our parents must so anxious be.\n  I love thee so, my darling, that my heart\n  Is nearly breaking. If thou speakest thus\n  To me, my dear, my grief will still increase.\n  I could not leave thee, but I must respect\n  Our parents' wishes. They commanded me\n  All haste to make. So--sweet--I pray thee have\n  Compassion on me.\"\n\n                  Much disturbed, the King\n  Observed the sorrow of the princess fair.\n  He kissed her lips, to her a _sepah_ gave,\n  And said with tender voice: \"My darling wife,\n  What dost thou wish? Let now thy brother go.\n  We'll see thy parents here ere many days.\"\n  The Queen wept bitterly, and said to him:\n  \"His wishes I do not oppose. Let him\n  Do whatsoe'er it pleaseth him to do.\n  For I am but a stranger, a lost child,\n  And who should think of me or love me true?\"\n  Then bowed the prince and said: \"In very truth,\n  I know thou art my sister. Speak not thus.\n  God knows how much I love thee, sister mine.\n  If thou dost not permit me to depart\n  I'll not resist. I'm happy here with thee,\n  But our dear parents are in cruel doubt,\n  And look for news of thee. Now that I know\n  Thy husband is a king, our parents dear\n  Would be so overjoyed to learn it too!\"\n  Then spoke the King with face all radiant,\n  \"Return not, brother mine,\" he said. \"I'll send\n  Swift messengers to bear the gladsome news\n  That Bidasari's found. Then, if he wills,\n  Thy royal father here we'll hope to see.\n  I'll go myself to meet him when he comes.\"\n  The young prince bowed and said: \"Nay, rather send\n  Thy messengers, a great king cannot go\n  So far away.\" Queen Bidasari heard\n  These words and much rejoiced, and gayly gave\n  Her brother then her betel-box.\n\n                  The King\n  Caressed his wife and said, \"My dearest soul,\n  Love not thy brother more than me.\" He called\n  Lila Mengindra. Soon the merchant came\n  Before the King and prince. The King exclaimed:\n  \"Come here, my uncle. Tell me, wilt thou take\n  A letter to the King of Kembajat--\n  To prove to him we live?\"\n\n                  So spake the King\n  And called his counsellor of state, who came\n  And kissed his hands. The King then bade him write\n  A letter, all in characters of gold.\n  \"Well,\" cried the King, \"let's hear the letter now,\"\n  \"Now glory be to God,\" it thus began,\n  And all fair Bidasari's history\n  Recited. Then the King a mighty host\n  Assembled and with elephants and steeds\n  Ten _mantris_ took the letter of the prince\n  Unto his parents. With the cavalcade\n  There went a _laksimana_ great, who bore,\n  As king's ambassador, bejewelled flags\n  And standards rich, and presents of much worth.\n  Then Sinapati by the King was called\n  A _laksimana mantri_, and received\n  A fine equipment, with a hundred men\n  To follow him. 'Twas thus the King preserved\n  His reputation as a mighty king.\n\n  When he had sent the embassy, the King\n  Went to his wife, and they were very gay.\n  His love for her grew greater every day.\n  The former merchant also was beloved.\n  He gave the King good counsel, and obeyed\n  His orders willingly. He often dined\n  Together with the King and Queen. His wealth\n  Grew vast. No one at all could with him vie,\n  In Indrapura. He was much attached\n  To the chief _mantri_. They were equals both\n  In prudence, wisdom, and fidelity,\n  With power unquestioned over all the folk.\n  Beneath their sway prosperity increased,\n  And many merchants came from far and wide.\n  The kingdom was at peace. The King rejoiced,\n  And everyone was happy in the land.\n\n\n\nSONG VI\n\n  The _laksimana mantri_ now I'll sing,\n  Who went upon the embassy. As soon\n  As the great King of Kembajat had news\n  Of his arrival, he was much rejoiced.\n  He told the Queen, and in the audience-hall\n  Awaited. Then went forth the officers\n  With elephants and _payongs_. A countless throng\n  Attended them, with music and with flags.\n  They met the embassy, and, with rich gifts,\n  They gave the King's commands. Into the town\n  Then entered all. The King was very glad,\n  As if his only daughter had returned.\n  All bowed before the King, who took the gifts,\n  While servants took the letter to the chief\n  Of _mantris_. And he gave it to the King,\n  The monarch read, and was possessed with joy.\n  He could not thank enough the merchant good,\n  Who raised his daughter to a royal throne.\n  He wished forthwith to go and see his child.\n  The letter cordial invitation gave.\n  But one thing troubled him: \"He straight inquired,\n  'Hath not the prince, my son, the liberty\n  To come back home?'\" The _laksimana_ bowed\n  And said: \"The King wished not to let him come\n  And begged with tears that he would stay. The Queen\n  Feared if her brother went she'd never see\n  Her father. From your children both I bring\n  Warm greetings. Kind indulgence from your heart\n  They ask, and press their invitation. I\n  Crave pardon for myself, O King, and hope\n  Thy children dear may see their father's face,\n  And that the kingdoms may become one realm.\"\n  At these words smiled the King. \"Ah, well!\" he said,\n  \"I'll wait for seven days still.\" Then questions flew,\n  And the great king learned all about his child.\n\n  The Indrapura _mantris_ went apart\n  When evening came. A separate palace grand\n  The King assigned them, with the best of food.\n  He orders gave for preparations great.\n  Unto the Queen he said: \"In seven days' time,\n  My dear, I look to start, for I shall have\n  No peace until I've seen our darling child.\"\n  Then he assembled there his _mantris_ all,\n  Both young and old, with elephants and steeds.\n  And all was ready to set forth, as he had wished.\n  The while the morning stars were twinkling still,\n  The royal gong resounded many times.\n  The guards leaped forth with joy. The officers\n  Came out and took their shining helms of war.\n  Their naked swords all glistened. It was thus\n  They made the glittering royal cavalcade.\n  Their flags and banners flaunted in the air,\n  All those who stayed behind were sad, as if\n  A knife had cut them. All together marched,\n  The lancers and the horsemen, and they seemed\n  A moving city. Soon all darkened was\n  The moon, as someone sorrowful. The swords\n  And lances glistened like an island in\n  The middle of the sea. Thus is described\n  The royal escort marching through the land.\n  The King was mounted on an elephant,\n  His _siri_-bearer seated close behind.\n  A rich _payong_ of royalty, all tricked\n  With bells, was stretched above his head,\n  And drums and other instruments without\n  Cessation sounded. Thus went forth the King,\n  And soon to Indrapura came.\n\n                  When near\n  He halted and forthwith an envoy sent\n  His coming to announce, together with\n  The _laksimana mantri_. \"Mighty King,\"\n  They said, \"thy royal father hath arrived.\"\n  The King his heralds ordered then to call\n  Lila Mengindra. With a smile he said\n  To him: \"Assemble in the square the folk\n  And army. Straight to my pavilion let\n  Them come, and all in holiday attire,\n  For I my father am to meet to-day.\"\n  Lila Mengindra bowed and hied him forth\n  To execute the orders of the King.\n  The King within his palace went, and sat\n  Upon a jewelled seat. The Queen was there,\n  And good Lila Mengindra at her side.\n  The King said smilingly: \"Light of my eyes,\n  Let all the palace decorated be.\n  Assemble all the palace folk and all\n  The younger girls. For now without the gates\n  Our parents wait. To-morrow I shall go\n  To meet them.\" Then Queen Bidasari cried,\n  With smiles: \"My brother they have come to see.\n  I cannot go before them and declare\n  Myself their daughter.\" But the young prince said:\n  \"Oh, speak not thus, my sister, but give heed\n  To what I say to thee, and be not wroth.\n  If I'm the only one they love, alone\n  I'll go with them away.\" Then to the King\n  He said: \"With my dear sister I but jest,\n  To quiet her alarms.\" He bowed before the King\n  And asked permission forth to go at once\n  To meet his father. \"Nay,\" replied the King,\n  \"We'll go together.\" A repast was served\n  With every kind of food. The royal three\n  Together ate. Then from the betel-box\n  They _siri_ took, and perfumes sweet they used.\n  The prince then from the palace forth did go.\n  Next day the King invited him to start\n  With him upon the royal progress. All\n  The banners waved, and everyone was glad.\n  Then to the Queen he said: \"Stay here, my love,\n  And I will hither bring thy father dear.\"\n  These words rejoiced the Queen. She said: \"Go forth,\n  My dear, and I will follow with my eyes.\"\n  The King then took his leave with the young prince,\n  With many _mantris_ following. The strains\n  Of gladsome music sounded. All the bells\n  Were rung, and those without the cavalcade\n  Were sad.\n\n  Ere long they came to the frontier,\n  And King met King. The folk of Kembajat\n  Were all astonished at the young King's face,\n  As beautiful as painter's masterpiece.\n  The old King looked with smiles on all. His joy\n  Was great. The King of Indrapura bowed\n  Respectfully, and made them bring to him\n  The elephant that bore 'neath gay _payong_\n  His consort's father. \"Son, where goest thou?\"\n  \"I've come to seek thee.\" Then the old King said:\n  \"Why didst thou come in person? 'Twould have been\n  Enough if thou hadst _mantris_ sent instead.\"\n  His joy o'erflowed his heart. His son-in-law\n  He greatly loved. Upon his elephant\n  He said: \"Approach, my son, thou art a king\n  Renowned. Thy body and thy soul are both\n  Alike, and both of royal stock!\" He pressed\n  Him in his arms and said: \"Light of my eyes,\n  Almighty God hath heard my many prayers,\n  And granted me a perfect son-in-law.\"\n  The King of Indrapura bowed and smiled\n  Most graciously. Then to the young prince said\n  His father: \"Mount, my son, beside me, here.\"\n  The young prince mounted at his father's side.\n  He was as beautiful as chiselled gold.\n\n  Within the town the kings made entry then\n  Amid a joyous throng. When they had come,\n  The former merchant bowed before them both,\n  The _mangkouboumi_ now. The mighty King\n  Of Indrapura bowed and said: \"My sire,\n  Speak to my uncle here; for he brought up\n  Thy daughter.\" Scarcely had the old King heard\n  These words than he exclaimed with joy: \"Come here,\n  My brother, let us now acquaintance make.\"\n  The old King, seated on his elephant,\n  Shed all about him rays of happiness,\n  And all the people there were greatly moved.\n  \"This is my brother well beloved,\" he said,\n  And kissed his brow. \"How great hath been his love,\n  His faithfulness has proved beyond compare.\"\n  The former merchant bowed, and to the King\n  Replied: \"I am thy slave, O King, and bear\n  Thine orders on my head. Thou dost o'erwhelm\n  Thy servant with thy favor.\" Then upon\n  The royal throne, which was all gem-bedecked,\n  The old King sat, the young prince at his side,\n  With all the _mantris_ near. Then came the Queen\n  Consort. The prince and Bidasari fair\n  Came from their seats, their mother to receive.\n  All entered then the palace. The young Queen,\n  Fair Bidasari, bowed and was embraced\n  By both her parents. With a flood of tears\n  Her father said: \"Alas, my darling child,\n  Fruit of my heart, light of my eyes, keep not\n  A hatred in thy soul against us now.\n  The will of God is now made manifest.\n  We long have separated been. At last\n  We see each other with our very eyes.\n  Great wrong we did thus to abandon thee,\n  But still let not thy heart a stranger be\n  To us. Peace later came to our dear land--\n  Such was our destiny. What could we do?\n  We were in flight. We thought, 'May God decree\n  Some honorable man shall find her here!'\n  How can we now be glad enough 'twas thus\n  Ordained! What recompense can we present?\"\n  Sweet Bidasari wept as she recalled\n  The past. The King her husband was much moved,\n  And felt great pity when her tears he saw.\n  And all were sad with sorrow mixed with joy,\n  Because they knew she was of royal birth.\n  Food now was served, and quickly the _dyangs_\n  Brought salvers for the princes. The two kings\n  Ate of the rice till they were surfeited,\n  Then to their children offered it. All took\n  The _siri_ placed before them, and straightway\n  Themselves anointed with rare perfumes sweet.\n  When all had eaten, the five royal ones\n  Lila Mengindra called, and gave to him\n  The remnants of the feast. The kings then spoke\n  To him and to his wife. They both bowed low\n  And kissed the royal hands. Then said the King\n  Of Kembajat: \"My children, I had planned--\n  In case we ever met on earth and ere\n  The prey of death became--a feast to give,\n  To last a month, and to it ye invite.\n  In triumph I my daughter fain would bear,\n  With all of ye. I would at once repair\n  Unto the isle of Nousa Antara,\n  And there I'd hold a royal festival\n  With all the members of our family,\n  And all the _bitis_, _mandars_, and _dyangs_.\n  Such was my plan--if ever I should find\n  My daughter dear. Now while this moon doth last\n  Let me the project see fulfilled before\n  Your parents come to die.\"\n\n                        The gracious King\n  Of Indrapura at these words bowed low\n  And said: \"I bear thy words upon my head.\n  It shall be done as thou hast wished, my King.\"\n  And when the evening came all was prepared.\n  Soft mattresses were spread, and the two queens\n  Betook them to their chambers, and the rich\n  Egyptian curtains fell. They vainly sought to sleep.\n  They talked together of their sorrows past\n  And evil days. And neither kings nor queens\n  That night could slumber.\n\n                       At the break of day\n  The talking bird began to sing and prate.\n  A little later the _bajangs_ began\n  Their song. Then all arose, and bathed, and broke\n  Their fast, and chattered and amused themselves.\n  The King of Indrapura then gave word\n  Unto the _mangkouboumi_: \"All prepare\n  That's necessary, ere the moon be full.\n  Get ready all the various kinds of ships,\n  And load them down with every sort of arms.\n  Prepare all sorts of games to pass the time,\n  And get in order all the cannons great\n  And fire-arms. Thus the King commands.\"\n\n                    Straightway\n  The _mangkouboumi_ bowed before the King,\n  And went his orders to obey. He made\n  The ships all ready, with new paint and gold.\n  When three were well equipped, on board he took\n  The people of the city. All the old\n  Were left behind, but of the young none stayed.\n  Then to the King the _mangkouboumi_ said,\n  \"All is prepared.\" At this the King rejoiced,\n  And to the King of Kembajat sent word,\n  Who told his wife, and she was all aglow.\n  They started from the palace, kings and queen\n  And prince, and lovely Bidasari, too,\n  Attended by the courtiers all. The strains\n  Of music sounded and the bells were rung.\n  All those whose lot it was to stay at home\n  Were pained, as if a knife had stricken them.\n  The cannons roared; the royal banners waved.\n\n  In three days' sail they reached the island fair,\n  Of Nousa Antara, and the ships made fast.\n  The two queens sat and watched the deft _dyangs_\n  Take up the coral white and pink, and toyed\n  With pretty shells. The King set foot upon\n  The isle of Nousa Antara. The King\n  And his dear wife upon the shore came forth,\n  With their sweet daughter Bidasari pure.\n  The King of Indrapura with them went,\n  The prince walked near them on the left.\n\n                    The King\n  Of Indrapura ordered that a tent\n  Be raised, and one was made. It was as large\n  As any palace, set with royal throne.\n  The two queens entered it and sought repose.\n  The prince before his father bowed and said,\n  \"My royal father, let me go and hunt.\"\n  To this the King of Kembajat replied,\n  \"Do what thou dost desire, light of my eyes.\"\n  The King of Indrapura said with smiles,\n  \"I'll go with thee to hunt, my brother dear.\"\n  The prince replied, \"I shall in truth be charmed,\n  My brother.\" \"Forth we'll fare to-morrow morn,\"\n  Returned the King of Indrapura. \"Call\n  The folk together.\"\n\n                    When the dawn appeared,\n  The King and prince together started forth,\n  Escorted by a band of hunters tried,\n  And beat the woods for game. The King and prince\n  And all their following made rapid work.\n  The game took flight. The King then drew his bow\n  And many animals were killed. A deer\n  Came running by. His arrow struck him full\n  Upon the shoulder, and the huntsmen seized\n  And quickly killed him. In the pathless woods\n  Of Nousa Antara there was much game.\n  A tiger roared, the King and prince pursued.\n  The tiger swiftly fled. The prince sat down\n  Within the forest deep. To overtake\n  The beast he was unable. To return\n  He sought, but could not find the way. Alone\n  He was, and in perplexity, because\n  His huntsmen he no longer could descry.\n  Then, wandering to and fro, he found at last\n  A pleasure garden of the days gone by,\n  Belonging to King Lila, beautiful\n  And without flaw. He was astonished quite\n  When he perceived a palace. All alone\n  He found himself, when he had entered there.\n  He walked about, but found no living soul.\n  Unto himself he said: \"Can this domain\n  A habitation be of demons dread\n  And spirits? Can this be the cause of all\n  The solitude which reigns?\" On all sides then\n  He looked. All suddenly a voice he heard,\n  But still no one could see. Amazed he stood.\n  The mystic voice exclaimed, \"Have pity, lord,\n  And free me from this room.\" As in a dream\n  The prince these accents heard. He answered then:\n  \"Who art thou? Whose strange voice is this I hear,\n  The while I no one see? Dost thou belong\n  Unto the race of demons and of spectres?\n  Where is the key, that I may ope the door?\"\n  Then the _dyang_ of Mendoudari said\n  Unto the prince: \"Look toward the left, for there\n  The key thou'lt find that opes the palace tower.\"\n  He took the key and opened wide the door.\n  All those who were within, when they beheld\n  The prince's face, fell prostrate at his feet.\n  To them the prince cried out: \"Say to what race\n  Ye do belong. This quickly tell. And whose\n  This palace beautiful?\" Then answered him\n  Dang Tjindra Melini: \"O Royal prince,\n  We are God's creatures, like to thee. And this\n  Fair palace of the King Lila is now\n  By Ifrid occupied, a spirit-king,\n  With whom now lives the prince illustrious,\n  Lila. His daughter, Princess Mendoudari,\n  Is shut alone within a chamber here,\n  And Ifrid, king of spirits, cometh oft.\n  On every third day cometh he. His eyes\n  Are brilliant as the sun.\" When this he heard\n  The prince was glad. The room he entered then.\n  The Princess Mendoudari sought to flee.\n  \"Where wouldst thou go, my friend,\" he said. \"I've sought\n  And found thee. Do not flee away from me.\"\n  The Princess Mendoudari said with tears:\n  \"And art thou mad enough hither to come?\n  The spirits will destroy thee without doubt.\"\n  These words rejoiced the prince, and to her then\n  He sang a low sweet song of love and wooing.\n  The princess answered with a dreamy chant.\n  And when the young prince heard her gentle lay\n  He felt a yearning pity for her fate.\n  \"Be not afraid, my dear,\" he said, \"for I\n  Will triumph over all thine enemies.\"\n  Then Dang Sendari served them dainty food;\n  And what was left, to her the princess gave.\n  The prince too _siri_ from the betel-box\n  And rare sweet perfumes used. When evening came,\n  A soft couch for the prince was spread. And then\n  The princess sought her room, and curtains drew\n  Of rich Egyptian stuff. The prince had asked,\n  \"When comes the spirit-king?\" And she had said,\n  \"At early dawn.\" The young prince could not sleep,\n  But through the long night hours sang soft _pantoums_.\n  When daylight came the prince arose. He heard\n  A spirit coming to the palace. Then with fear\n  Was seized the princess fair. \"Behold,\" she cried,\n  \"He cometh.\" Then the young prince took his arms.\n  \"Fear not,\" he said; \"have confidence in God.\n  What he decrees must always come to pass.\n  If I'm destroyed, then follow me in death.\n  I only ask one thing of thee, my love.\n  When I am dead, I pray thee weep for me,\n  And let thy mantle be my winding-sheet.\n  Now let thy glances follow as I go.\"\n\n  I'll tell of Ifrid now--the spirit-king.\n  He lurked beneath the palace. When he heard\n  The princess talking with the prince his ire\n  Arose like burning flame. His cry was like\n  A thunder-burst. The very palace shook.\n  \"Depart from here,\" unto the prince he roared,\n  \"And feel my mighty power.\" Then sweet love-songs\n  Exchanging with the princess went he forth.\n  His mien was like Sang Samba's, and his face\n  Was nobly firm, as if he went to meet\n  A roaring tiger. At his side he wore\n  A rare carbuncled sword, and arrows bore\n  With points in deadly poison dipped. Ifrid,\n  The creature with two heads, like spectre came\n  With laughter horrid. He took up a stone\n  And hurled it at the prince, who dodged its flight.\n  Then full of wrath Ifrid upon him rushed.\n  But swift the prince let fly an arrow sharp,\n  And pierced his heart. One groan, and then he fell,\n  And died beside the river. Then the prince\n  Made haste to join the princess.\n\n                                  When she saw\n  The spirit Ifrid dead she much rejoiced\n  And bowed before the prince. Great gladness shone\n  In her fair face, because her woe had ceased,\n  And she was happy that 'twas to the prince\n  She owed her rescue. 'Twas as if she'd found\n  A mountain great of jewels. Then she said:\n  \"Caliph a high divinity once was\n  And called himself King Lila. God will bless\n  Thee for thy deeds, O mighty prince.\"\n\n                                       The prince\n  With kisses said: \"Thou hast a charming mouth.\n  Thy form is supple. Prithee tell me why\n  I should not love thee? Thou art beautiful\n  As a statue of pure gold, and thou shalt be\n  A princess in my palace. Well I know\n  Thine origin is noble, and thy race\n  Is high.\" They gayly chatted while some food\n  Was served. The prince, with pleasure, at the side\n  Of the fair princess ate. When all was done\n  He took some _siri_ from the betel-box\n  And perfumes used. \"Thou art a jasmine sweet,\"\n  He said, \"an antidote to every ill,\n  And thou shalt be my wife.\"\n\n                             Next day the prince\n  Took her behind him on his horse, and they\n  Departed. The _dyangs_ accompanied them.\n\n  Now will I tell about the _mantris_ all.\n  Until the fall of evening, with the King\n  Of Indrapura, they in waiting stayed,\n  To welcome back the prince. And much disturbed\n  They were that he delayed so long to come.\n  The King then bade them seek the prince, and see\n  Why he remained so long apart from them.\n  Then _mantris_ four set out, and hunted far\n  And wide, but found him not. They brought the news\n  That he could not be found. The King was sad\n  And ordered them to go and tell the King,\n  His wife's dear father, that the prince was lost.\n  The old King fainted when he heard the tale.\n  With oil of rose they sprinkled him, and back\n  Unto his senses came he. \"O my child,\"\n  He said, \"my heart hath lost all hope. Where now\n  Art thou? I'll go, myself, to seek.\"\n\n                                      The King\n  Wept much, and his dear wife. And as for her--\n  Sweet Bidasari--she appeared to wish\n  To kill herself, for never on the earth\n  Did brother love his sister like the prince\n  And Bidasari. At the fall of day\n  Back came the King of Indrapura, sad\n  And weeping. Then the King of Kembajat\n  Said: \"O my son, be silent. Do not weep,\n  For thou dost but increase the pain I feel.\"\n  But Indrapura's King replied: \"Alas!\n  He was my brother true, so brave and good!\"\n  But while they were lamenting thus the prince\n  Stood there before them with his consort fair.\n  He bowed to all. The King, his father, saw\n  And could not speak. He thought, \"It is the voice\n  Of my dear son.\" Then recognition came\n  And he was wild with joy. The prince then told\n  How he had chased the tiger, and had lost\n  His way within a wood: how he had killed\n  A spirit there, Ifrid, the dread.\n\n                                   The King\n  Heard all he said and much rejoiced. Then came\n  The servants serving tasteful food to all.\n  The King ate with his wife and children dear.\n  Together they were six. All sorts of rare\n  And dainty food were served them, and the King\n  Took _siri_ from the betel-box, and used\n  Sweet perfumes. The great King of Kembajat\n  Then gave a festival which lasted quite\n  Seven days, with music and diversions gay.\n  Glad joy was at its height, of pleasure born\n  And of the dance. The kings amused themselves.\n  All kinds of games they had. Intji Bibi,\n  A singer of Malacca, sang with grace.\n  The seven days passed, the Princess Mendoudari\n  Was all in finery arrayed. The wives\n  Of the two kings took her in hand. The prince\n  Was by the _mangkouboumi_ ta'en in charge.\n  The princess sweetest perfumes did exhale.\n  Her manners were most gracious and polite\n  As of a well-born person. Every sort\n  Of gem and jewel sparkled from her robes.\n  She wore a ring--'twas _astokouna_ called--\n  And yet another one, _glangkano_ named,\n  And still another, with bright stones all carved\n  In fashion of Ceylon. Her tresses curled\n  Like to a full-blown flower, and on them shone\n  Full many precious stones. The _tourie_ buds\n  Became her well. Her features were as bright\n  As those of some celestial being pure.\n  Fair Mendoudari thus was clad, and led\n  To the bride's seat, and at her either hand\n  Stood _mantris'_ daughters seven with waving fans.\n  Meanwhile the _mangkouboumi_ patiently\n  Achieved the tiring of the prince. He wore\n  A royal crown, made in the island fair\n  Called Nousa Antara, and a rich coat\n  Which opened at the sides, made in the West.\n  A chiselled necklace hung about his neck.\n  His tunic flamed with orange, like the robe\n  Of great Schahid Schah Pri. His girdle bright\n  Was cloth of _tjindi_, fringed with agates rare.\n  An amulet he wore with diamond pure,\n  With sacred words engraved of the Koran.\n  He wore a jewel like a butterfly,\n  Most beautiful, and many rings and gems.\n  His features of the rarest beauty were,\n  Like those of some divinity of heaven.\n  When thus arrayed, the youthful prince came forth\n  And made obeisance to his parents both.\n  He went to the appointed place, and all\n  The children of the court assembled there\n  Before him, while two sons of heralds stood\n  Beside him, waving fans like floating clouds.\n  All kept the strictest silence. Then a band\n  Of soldiers came, with blades all glittering.\n  The royal sword, all diamond decked, flashed rays\n  Of light. Three times around the island went\n  They all, with sound of music and the noise\n  Of bells. And all who heard in vain essayed\n  To estimate the number. Everyone\n  Ran forth to see the progress--men and women.\n  Some tore their garments, some their children lost,\n  Distracted by the pleasure and the noise.\n  When ended the procession, the young prince\n  At Princess Mendoudari's right was placed,\n  Within the palace. Then to them was brought\n  Rice called _adapadap_, and they became\n  A wedded pair. And all the folk dispersed.\n  In three days' time was Mendoudari dressed\n  Anew by Bidasari. She was robed\n  With vesture of embroidered silk. The prince\n  Was likewise gayly clad, to suit the glad\n  Occasion. Now again they made, in state,\n  A royal progress round about the isle.\n  The King and Bidasari rode in one\n  Grand chariot, and, within another, went\n  The prince and Mendoudari, his fair bride.\n  Then back they came for rest, upon the soft\n  Rich palace cushions. Then the mighty King\n  Of Kembajat inquired of his dear wife:\n  \"What think'st thou, love? Shall we to-morrow morn\n  Return?\" With smiles the Queen replied, \"I bear\n  Thine orders on my head.\" Next day the hearts\n  Of all the royal company were filled\n  With joy. The officers assembled then\n  To take the King's commands, and he was pleased\n  To see them dutiful. The following morn\n  The song of the _bajans_ awaked the King.\n  At early dawn each princess with her lord,\n  And all the officers, embarked upon\n  The ship. They sailed far from the island fair,\n  Nousa Antara, and in three days came\n  To Indrapura and the river's mouth.\n  When at the palace they arrived again,\n  The _mantris_ came in joy and kissed their hands.\n  The King of Kembajat said that he wished\n  To go. Scarce had fair Indrapura's King\n  Heard that his parents to their home desired\n  At once to go, when he the _mantris_ called\n  And orders gave. The King of Kembajat\n  Set out with his dear wife next day at dawn.\n  Within the palace of their daughter sweet\n  They met fair Indrapura's King. The King\n  Of Kembajat sat at his side, and said\n  In softest tones: \"Well, Bidasari, child,\n  Thy parents now will homeward fare. Obey\n  The King, thy gracious husband, in all things.\n  The former merchant brought thee up. He will\n  A father be to thee. Strive hard to win\n  Thy husband's heart, and never disregard\n  His wishes.\" Scarcely had she heard these words\n  Than at her father's knees she fell, and shed\n  A flood of tears. The King embraced his child\n  And, weeping, said: \"My daughter dear, pure gold,\n  My crown's chief gem, light of my very eyes,\n  Branch of my heart, be not disturbed, my soul,\n  Nor let thy heart be sad.\" The royal four\n  All wept together. Then the father said:\n  \"My son, accomplished prince, we trust to thee\n  Our Bidasari. Show her the right path\n  If she aside should step, for hither she\n  As prisoner came. Correction should she need,\n  For us it will not be a shame.\" At this\n  Fair Indrapura's King was greatly moved.\n  He bowed and said: \"My father, speak not thus.\n  I have the best opinion of the girl.\n  Our hearts are one, as body with the soul.\n  This kingdom all is hers, the guardian I\n  Of her possessions, and I'll satisfy\n  Her every wish.\" The King with joy replied:\n  \"Well, daughter, jewel of my crown, thou art\n  No more beneath my sway, but wholly now\n  Under the orders of thy husband dear.\"\n  He much was moved, and to the _mangkouboumi_\n  Said, \"Brother, take my treasures all, for we\n  Can never all thy goodness recompense.\"\n  The former merchant and his wife bowed low:\n  \"Your gratitude, O prince, is great, but all\n  Thy treasures are thy royal daughter's meed.\n  For her we'll guard them.\" But the King replied:\n  \"Nay, speak not thus, my brother. Should I give\n  All Indrapura's weight in purest gold\n  It would not pay thee for thy care and love.\n  We are to thee devoted from our hearts.\"\n  At dawn they breakfasted, but all were sad,\n  Because from Bidasari now must part\n  Her parents dear and brother. Much she wept\n  Because she felt her heart go out to him\n  Her brother. Then she said: \"I've one to take\n  The place of parents, but where shall I find\n  A brother?\" Princess Mendoudari bowed\n  To Bidasari, and they kissed with tears.\n  Fair Bidasari said: \"My sister dear,\n  Sweet Mendoudari, when wilt thou return?\n  Stay not too long at Kembajat, for I\n  Could not thine absence bear. Farewell, my love.\"\n  The King embraced his daughter. Bitterly\n  Both wept. The royal father said, \"Stay here,\n  My son-in-law, with thy dear wife.\" The King\n  Before his parents bowed. The youthful prince\n  Before the King his brother bowed, and went\n  To Bidasari's side, his sister dear,\n  With heavy heart. Then, weeping much, he said:\n  \"O sister mine, gem of my crown, be not\n  So sorrowful. I go, but if thou dost\n  Desire, I'll come each year to visit thee.\"\n  Sweet Bidasari kissed him. But her grief\n  Was inexpressible. \"O brother dear,\n  Illustrious prince,\" she said, \"thine absence would\n  E'en then be much too long.\" The prince replied,\n  With bows: \"Assuage thy grief, my sister dear.\n  For if the King permits, perhaps I may\n  Come sooner back to thee.\"\n\n                             The mighty King\n  Of Indrapura said, in friendly tones:\n  \"Although he be thy brother, still, my dear,\n  I love him much. We ne'er have had the least\n  Misunderstanding. Why art thou not gay?\n  And why art thou not willing he should go?\n  If 'twere not for thy father I would keep\n  Him here.\"\n\n             The King departed, followed by\n  His son, who took his father just beyond\n  The gates. The _mangkouboumi_ bowed his head\n  Before the King, who with much ardor said,\n  \"O father of dear Bidasari, give\n  Aid and protection to thy lovely child.\"\n  The _mangkouboumi_ bowed again, and said:\n  \"Whate'er is fit, I'll do. Upon my head\n  I bear thine orders. I thy servant am.\"\n  The prince embraced the former merchant too,\n  And said, \"O uncle dear, my sister guide,\n  And counsel her if any fault she doth.\"\n  Then said the King of Kembajat, \"My son,\n  Come, let us start at once.\"\n\n                               So forth he fared.\n  The prince and all the escort with him went.\n  A few days passed and they were home again.\n  New garments to the escort all were given,\n  And many presents to the officers.\n  By _mantris_ four the King rich treasures sent\n  Unto his children loved, with many steeds\n  And elephants. When safely they arrived\n  At Indrapura, they appeared before\n  The _mangkouboumi_. He presented them\n  Unto the King, and said: \"O sire, these gifts\n  Are from thy son.\" The King replied: \"Why dost\n  Thou bring them here, my uncle? Keep them all\n  In thine own treasury.\" Then he retired\n  Within and said to Bidasari sweet:\n  \"Thy father, dear, hath sent us presents rare,\n  And four young _mantris_, and a thousand men\n  With elephants and horses. All is thine.\"\n  The fair young Queen with smiles to him replied:\n  \"All that with me to share thou dost desire.\n  Whatever be thy wish, I wish it too.\"\n  The King adored his wife, and was to her\n  Devoted. His great happiness increased\n  And his domains extended every year.\n  When Bidasari's royal birth was known,\n  The news spread far and wide, and everywhere\n  Was told. The realm of Indrapura grew\n  More populous and powerful year by year.\n\n  The wicked Princess Lila Sari lived\n  Alone and desolate, in sadness deep\n  And full repentance for her evil deeds.\n\n  This song is weak because my skill is small.\n  My heart was deeply stirred. And that is why\n  I made, poor fakir I, this poem here.\n  I have not made it long, because too sad\n  I was, and troubled. Now at last 'tis done.\n  For this, at least, your blessings I deserve.\n\nTHE END.\n\n\n\n\nSEDJARET MALAYOU\n\nLEGENDS OF THE MALAY ARCHIPELAGO\n\n[Translated by M. Devic and Chauncey C. Starkweather]\n\n\nOnce upon a time lived King Iskender, son of King Darab. He traced his\norigin to Roum; Macedonia was his native country, and Dhoul-Garnein his\nsurname. Now it happened that this prince set out upon his travels to\nfind the place where the sun rose; and he arrived at the frontier of\nIndia. There reigned in this country a very powerful king, to whom half\nof India was in subjection; and his name was King Kida Hindi. As soon\nas King Kida Hindi heard of King Iskender's approach, he gave orders to\nhis prime minister, who gathered together the armies and princes who\nwere subject to him. When all were met together, he marched forth to\nmeet King Iskender. The two armies engaged and the conflict was carried\non with extreme activity on both sides, as is related in the history of\nKing Iskender. Kida Hindi was defeated and taken alive. Iskender\nordered him to embrace the true faith, and Kida Hindi embraced the\nfaith and became enrolled in the religion of the prophet Abraham, the\nfriend of God, to whom be the glory! Then King Iskender caused him to\nbe clothed in a garment like his own, and bade him return to his own\ncountry.\n\nKing Kida Hindi was the father of a very beautiful girl, whose equal\nwas not to be found in her day. Her face had the dazzling lustre of the\nsun or the moon; she was modest and discreet. Her name was Chehr-el-\nBeria. King Kida Hindi took his prime minister aside and said to him:\n\n\"I have summoned you to ask your advice on the subject of my daughter,\nwhose equal in these days cannot be found. I have formed the project of\npresenting her to King Iskender.\"\n\nThe minister answered: \"Your Majesty has made a wise decision.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" replied the King, \"to-morrow, God willing, you shall go\nand find the prophet Khidar and relate to him the whole matter.\"\n\nNext day accordingly the minister set out to find the prophet Khidar.\nAfter his departure King Kida Hindi commanded that the name of King\nIskender should be inscribed on the coins and standards of his realm.\nWhen the minister approached the prophet Khidar he made a salaam to\nhim, which the prophet returned and asked him to be seated. Then the\nminister spoke as follows:\n\n\"You must know, O prophet of God, that my King entertains for King\nIskender an affection so fervent that I cannot describe it. He is the\nfather of a girl who has no equal among the children of this world's\nmonarchs from the rising to the setting sun. She is without a rival in\nface, wit, and goodness of disposition. Now the desire of the King is\nto present the princess before King Iskender, with the view of\nultimately giving her to him for his wife.\"\n\nNow the soldiers of King Souran laid siege against the walled town of\nGangga-Chah Djouhan; but those on guard repulsed them, so that they\ncould not get near. Seeing this, King Souran advanced, mounted on an\nuntamed elephant. Taking no heed to the arrows that were launched\nagainst him by the defenders of the wall, he reached the gate and\nstruck it with his mace. The gate gave way and King Souran entered,\nfollowed by his warriors.\n\nWhen King Gangga-Chah Djouhan saw King Souran approaching, he seized\nhis bow and shot an arrow with haste. The arrow struck the forehead of\nKing Souran's elephant. The elephant fell on his knees. King Souran\nquickly leaped to the ground, drawing his sword as he did so; at a\nsingle stroke he struck through the neck of King Gangga-Chah, and the\nsevered head rolled to the ground. The forces of Gangga-Nagara, as soon\nas they saw their prince fall, demanded the _aman_ (i.e., truce).\n\nKing Gangga-Chah Djouhan had a sister, named Princess Zaras Gangga. She\nwas exceedingly beautiful. The victorious prince took her for his wife.\nThen he resumed his march.\n\nSome time afterward he reached the city of Ganggayon. It was formerly a\ngreat city, the black stones of whose fortress survive even to this\nday. This fortress is at the extremity of the river Djoher. The name\nGanggayon in the Siamese tongue means \"treasury of emeralds.\" The King\nof the city was Rajah Tchoulin; he was a powerful prince, to whom all\nthe kings of the land did obeisance.\n\nOn the news of King Souran's approach, King Tchoulin called together\nall his troops and sent word to the kings who were his tributaries.\nWhen all were assembled he set out to repel the invaders. The multitude\nof his soldiers was like the waves of the sea; his elephants and\nhorses stood up among them like islands; his flags and standards\npresented the appearance of a forest, and the cows' tails fluttering at\nthe pike-heads presented the appearance of _lalang_ ploughers.\n\nThe army came in four bodies and reached the banks of a river. There\nthey saw the soldiers of King Souran, ranged like forest-trees. The\nSiamese exclaimed, \"Pangkal,\" a word which means \"river,\" and hence\nthat river became known as the river Pangkal.\n\nThe soldiers of Siam at once joined battle with the soldiers of Kling,\nwho were Hindoos; and the battle raged with indescribable confusion.\nThe soldiers mounted on elephants pressed forward these great beasts;\nthe men on horseback made their horses champ with fury; the lancers\npressed home their lances; those who carried pikes plied them\nfuriously; and those who bore sabres dealt many a doughty stroke. Blood\nflowed like rain. The crash of thunder would have been drowned by the\nshouts of the warriors and the clash of arms. The dust that rose from\nthe plain obscured the brightness of the day like an eclipse of the\nsun. So complete was the confusion with which the contestants mingled\nthat it was not possible to distinguish the combatants of either side:\neach assailant was at the same time the assailed, and he who struck\nwith his weapon himself at the same moment was stricken with a blow.\nSometimes the soldiers attacked a comrade by mistake. Every moment\ncrowds of people on either side were killed and wounded, many horses\nand elephants had their throats cut, and the blood shed covered the\nground. The dust had disappeared; the combatants were seen struggling\nin masses so compact that neither party was able to retire from the\nbattle.\n\nKing Tchoulin managed to force a way by means of the elephant he rode\nthrough the innumerable horde of King Souran's soldiers; the corpses\nwere piled up beneath his feet. A crowd of Hindoo warriors lost their\nlives. The rest of them began to give way. King Souran, on perceiving\nthis, dashed forward to meet King Tchoulin in single combat. He mounted\nan untamed elephant eight cubits high that had no driver. But the\nelephant of King Tchoulin was also very brave. The two animals met;\nthey attacked each other; the clash of their encounter was like the\nthunder that rends the earth; their tusks clashing and intertwining\nmade a sound like that of a storm that never ceases. Neither could\ntriumph over the other.\n\nThen King Tchoulin raised himself upon the beast he rode and brandished\na javelin. He hurled it against King Souran; the javelin struck the\nelephant on his flank and pierced deep. At the same time King Souran\nshot an arrow which smote King Tchoulin in the breast and came out at\nhis back. That prince fell to the earth and expired. The soldiers\nseeing their king dead, broke ranks and took flight in utter disorder,\npursued by the Hindoos, who put to the sword all they overtook.\nPenetrating the ramparts of Ganggayon the Hindoo soldiers pillaged the\ntown; the booty was immense.\n\nKing Tchoulin had a daughter, extremely beautiful. Her name was the\nprincess Ouangkion; she was presented to King Souran, who took her for\nhis wife.\n\nThe King then resumed his march and arrived at Temasik. The rumor of\nhis approach soon reached China. People said, \"Lo! King Souran comes\nwith a countless army to conquer China. He has already reached\nTemasik.\" This news was heard with dire alarm by the King of China. He\nsaid to his ministers and to his officers:\n\n\"What must be done to repel this invading multitude? If the King of\nKling arrives here, he will doubtless ruin our country.\"\n\nThe prime minister said: \"O King of the world; I have a device for\nrepelling him.\"\n\n\"Very good,\" said the King; \"do not fail to try it.\"\n\nThe prime minister therefore caused a _pilo_, or ship, to be fitted out\nwith rusty needles. They took also two kinds of trees, kamses and\njujube trees, laden with fruit; these were placed on board ship with\nthe soil in which they grew. Old men who had lost their teeth were\nchosen for passengers and crew. To these the minister gave his\ninstructions and they started for Temasik.\n\nWhen they had reached this place King Souran was informed that a ship\nhad arrived from China. \"Go and ask these strangers,\" he said to his\nattendants, \"at what distance does this country lie from us.\" The\nattendant put this question to the crew of the _pilo_ and received the\nfollowing reply:\n\n\"When we left China we were all still young, being scarcely twelve\nyears old; and these trees were seeds which we had sown. But you see\nhow old we are now, and how our teeth are fallen out; the grains of\nseed have become trees in fruit, and all this has happened during the\ntime it has taken us to reach here.\"\n\nAt the same time they took the needles of which they had a large\nquantity and said as they showed them to the Hindoos:\n\n\"When we started from China, these were as thick as a man's arm, and\nnow see how they are worn out by the rust. This will give you an idea\nof the length of the voyage: we could not keep count of the years and\nthe months.\"\n\nOn hearing this answer of the Chinese, the Hindoos ran to report it to\nKing Souran, to whom they repeated all they had heard.\n\n\"If the thing is as they say,\" replied the prince, \"the land of China\nis still a very long way off. When shall we arrive there? We had better\nreturn home.\"\n\n\"His Majesty is undoubtedly right,\" said the officers.\n\nKing Souran meditated thus: \"Behold, the contents of the land is known\nto me, but how can I learn the contents of the sea? I must needs enter\nthe sea, in order to know it.\"\n\nThen he summoned his engineers and skilful men, and ordered them to\nfashion a box of glass with lock and fastenings within, in order that\nhe might shut himself in it. The engineers made the box of glass just\nas the King desired it; they furnished it with a chain of the purest\ngold; then they presented it to King Souran, who was exceedingly well\npleased with it, and rewarded them all with rich presents.\n\nThe prince entered into the box, disappeared from the eyes of all\npresent, and shut the door upon himself. They took the box to the sea,\nand let it descend even to the bottom. What treasures, what wealth,\nworks of the Almighty, were seen by King Souran! The box fell until it\nreached a land called Dika. There King Souran came out of the box, and\nwent forward, seeing most wonderful things. He arrived at a great and\nstrongly fortified town, which he entered and saw a vast population,\nwhose number God alone knows. This people, who call themselves the\nBadsam people, were composed of believers and unbelievers.\n\nThe inhabitants of the town were astonished to see the face of King\nSouran, and his garments they looked upon with astonishment. They\nconducted him to the presence of their King, whom they call Agtab-al-\nArd (_i.e._, Bowels of the Earth). This prince asked, \"What man is\nthis?\"\n\n\"My lord,\" was the reply, \"it is a stranger, who arrived a moment ago.\"\n\n\"Whence does he come?\"\n\n\"We do not know.\"\n\nThen the King addressed King Souran himself and said, \"Who are you, and\nwhence do you come?\"\n\nKing Souran replied: \"I come from the world; I am the king of men; my\nname is King Souran.\"\n\nKing Agtab-al-Ard was very much astonished on hearing these words.\n\"There is, then,\" he said, \"another world beside ours?\"\n\n\"The world,\" replied King Souran, \"contains many races.\"\n\n\"Glory to God almighty,\" said the King, full of surprise. Then he made\nKing Souran ascend and sit with him on the royal throne.\n\nAgtab-al-Ard had a daughter, of great beauty, named Princess Mah-tab-\nal-Bahri (\"Moon of the Sea\"). He gave her in marriage to King Souran.\nThat prince dwelt three years with her and had three male children by\nher. When he thought about these three children King Souran felt much\ntroubled. He said to himself: \"What will become of them, here, under\nthe earth? Or how shall I withdraw them hence?\"\n\nHe went to see Agtab-al-Ard, and said to him: \"If my sons grow up, will\nyour Majesty allow me to see that they are brought into the upper\nworld, in order that the royal line of Sultan Iskender Dhoul-Quameen\nmay not be broken to the end of time?\"\n\nThe King answered, \"I shall not hinder you.\"\n\nThen King Souran took leave of the King and prepared for his return.\nThe King and his daughter shed many tears at parting. Then the King\ngave orders to bring the horse Sembrani, named Paras-al-Bahri\n(\"Sea-horse\"), which he gave to King Souran. The prince mounted the\nhorse, which bore him from the sea, and carried him in the air above\nthe billows.\n\nThe troops of King Souran caught sight of the horse Sembrani, and\nrecognized in its rider their King. The prime minister at once took a\nbeautiful mare and led it to the shore. The sea-horse saw the mare and\ncame to land to meet her, and King Souran descended. Then the horse\nSembrani went back into the sea.\n\nKing Souran said to his wise men and engineers: \"Raise a monument which\nshall witness to my journey in the sea; for I wish the memory of it to\nbe preserved even to the Resurrection day. Write out the story, so that\nit may be told to all my descendants.\"\n\nIn obedience to the words of the King the wise men and engineers set up\na stone on which they traced an inscription in the tongue of Hindostan.\nThis done, King Souran gathered a quantity of gold, silver, jewels,\ngems, and precious treasures, which he laid up under the stone.\n\n\"At the end of the centuries,\" he said, \"there will come a king among\nmy descendants who will find these riches. And this king will subdue\nevery country over which the wind blows.\"\n\nAfter this, King Souran returned to the land of Kling. There he built a\nmighty city, protected by a wall of black stone having seven rows of\nmasonry thick and nine fathoms high; the engineers made it with such\nskill that the joints of the stones were invisible, and the wall seemed\ncast of a single substance. The gate was of steel, enriched with gold\nand precious stones.\n\nThis rampart enclosed seven hills. In the centre of the city extended a\npool vast as the sea; from one bank it was impossible to discern an\nelephant standing up on the other. It contained very many kinds of\nfishes. In the midst of it rose a very lofty island, always covered\nwith a mantle of mist. The King caused to be planted there every sort\nof flowering and fruit-bearing tree to be found in the world. None was\nlacking, and to this island the King would repair when he wished for\nrecreation.\n\nHe caused also to be planted on the banks of the pool a vast forest\nwherein wild animals were at large. And when the King wished to hunt,\nor catch elephants in the snare, he went to this forest. When the town\nwas completed the King called it after himself, Souran-Bidgi-Nagara,\nand this town still exists in the province of Kling.\n\nIn short, if one wished to relate all the rest of King Souran's history\nhe would find it as long as that of Sidi Hanza.\n\n\n\nTHE ADVENTURES OF BADANG\n\nIt is related that there once lived at Salouang a husbandman who owned\na slave named Badang, whom he employed in clearing forest-land. It\nhappened one day that Badang spread his nets in the river; but on the\nfollowing morning he found his net quite empty, and by its side some\nfish-scales and fish-bones. The same thing took place for some days\nfollowing. Badang flung the fish-scales (_sisik_) into the river; from\nwhich circumstance was derived the river's name, Besisik.\n\nMeanwhile the slave said to himself: \"Who is it who eats the fish\ncaught in my net? I must watch and find out.\"\n\nWith this intention he hid one day behind some trees and saw a\n_hantou_, or evil genius, or monster, who was eating the fish taken in\nhis net. This _hantou_ had eyes red as fire, his hair was like woven\nosiers, and his beard fell down to his waist. Badang drew his knife,\nand, screwing up his courage, rushed up to the _hantou_ and seized him.\n\n\"Every day,\" he said, \"you eat up my fish. But this time you shall die\nat my hands.\"\n\nOn hearing these words, the _hantou_ was afraid, and slipped aside,\nwishing to avoid the hands of his adversary; but failing to do so, he\nsaid to him: \"Do not kill me; I will give you what you wish, on\ncondition that you spare my life.\"\n\nBadang thought: \"If I ask for riches, my master will claim them. If I\nask the power to become invisible, they will put  me to death as a\nsorcerer. Therefore it is best for me to ask for the gift of physical\nstrength, in order that I may do the work of my master.\"\n\nIn accordance with this resolution, Badang said to the _hantou_, \"Give\nme the gift of physical strength; let me be strong enough to tear down\nand to uproot the trees; that is, that I may tear down, with one hand,\ngreat trees, a fathom or two in girth.\"\n\nThe _hantou_ answered: \"Your prayer is granted. You wish for strength;\nI will give it to you; but first it is necessary that you eat up what I\nvomit.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said Badang; \"vomit, and I will eat it up.\" The _hantou_\nvomited, and Badang set to work to eat it. He held the _hantou_ by the\nbeard, and would not let him go. Then he attempted the uprooting of\ngreat trees; and, seeing that he tore them up with ease, he let go the\nbeard of the _hantou_.\n\nAfterward, coming and going through the forest, he tore down enormous\ntrees; he carried off, roots and all, those of a fathom or two in\ngirth. As for the small ones, he tore them up by handfuls and flung\nthem on all sides. In a moment the forest which had been a wilderness\nbecame level as a great plain.\n\nWhen his master saw this work he said: \"Who has cleared our land? For I\nsee that it is suddenly freed entirely from trees and brushwood.\"\n\n\"It is I,\" said Badang, \"who have effected this clearance.\"\n\nThen answered the master: \"How have you been able to do this, single-\nhanded, so quickly and in one job?\"\n\nThen Badang related all the details of his adventure, and his master\ngave him his liberty.\n\nThe report of these occurrences reached Singapore. King Krama\nimmediately ordered that Badang be brought before him, and he called\nhim Raden (_i.e._, Royal Prince).\n\nOnce upon a time the King of Singapore ordered Badang to fetch for his\nrepast the fruit of _kouras_, at the river Sayang. Badang went there\nalone in his _pilang_, or boat, which was eight fathoms long, and he\npunted it with a pole cut from the trunk of a kampas-tree a fathom in\ngirth.\n\nWhen he arrived at the river Sayang, he clasped the _kouras_-tree. The\nbranches broke, the tree fell, and his head struck against a huge rock.\nHis head was not injured, but the rock was split in two. This stone is\nstill seen to-day on the river Sayang, and it bears the name of Balou-\nblah, which means the \"Riven Rock.\" His pole and boat have also been\npreserved to the present day. The day following his exploit Badang\nstarted back for Singapore, with his _pilang_ completely laden with\nsugar-cane, bananas, and _keladion_, or edible lily, root. He had eaten\nthe whole cargo before he arrived at Djohor-the-Old.\n\nOn another occasion the King of Singapore had caused a large ship to be\nbuilt, fifteen fathoms long, in front of the palace. The vessel being\nfinished, between forty and fifty men were ordered to push it into the\nwater. They were unable to launch it. As many as 2,000 or 3,000 persons\nwere equally unsuccessful. Then the King ordered Badang to undertake\nthe operation. Badang undertook the task unaided, and pushed with such\nforce that the vessel went right across the strait to the other shore.\nFor this feat the King appointed him _houloubalong_, or officer of\nmilitary rank.\n\nA report reached the province of Kling that among the officers of the\nKing was a man of extraordinary strength, named Badang. Now there was a\npowerful athlete at the court of the King of Kling, who had no rival in\nthe country. His name was Madia-Bibjaya-Pelkrama. The King ordered him\nto go to Singapore with seven vessels; \"Go,\" said he, \"and wrestle with\nthis officer. If he defeat you, give him as a prize the cargo of the\nseven vessels; if you are victorious, demand of him an equal forfeit.\"\n\n\"I obey, your Majesty,\" said the athlete, and started off with the\nseven vessels.\n\nWhen he arrived at Singapore they brought news to the King of the city,\nsaying: \"An athlete has arrived from the land of Kling to compete with\nBadang in many kinds of sports. If he is defeated, he will leave the\ncargo of his seven vessels as forfeit.\"\n\nThe King came out of his palace to give audience. The Hindoo athlete\npresented himself. The prince told him to try a bout with Badang.\nBadang beat him in every round.\n\nNow facing the _balerong_, or court of audience, was an enormous rock.\nThe athlete said to Badang: \"Come, let us match our strength by lifting\nthis stone. Whoever cannot lift it will be conquered.\"\n\n\"Do you try first,\" said Badang.\n\nThe athlete commenced, and made many attempts without succeeding in\nlifting it. At last, mustering all his strength, he raised it to the\nheight of his knee and let it fall again.\n\n\"Now it is your turn, my master,\" he said.\n\n\"Very good,\" answered Badang, and lifting the stone he swung it in the\nair, then hurled it toward the river, at the entrance to the town,\nwhere it is still seen at the extremity of the point of Singapore.\n\nThe athlete of Kling, thus vanquished, handed to Badang the seven\nvessels and their cargoes; then he returned, very much saddened and\nmortified by his defeat.\n\nNow the report came to the country of Perlak that there was at\nSingapore an officer of the King named Badang without a rival in\nextraordinary strength. The King of Perlak, so runs the story, had an\nathlete named Bandarang, also very strong and of a great reputation.\nThis athlete was before the King when they spoke of Badang.\n\n\"My lord,\" he asked, \"is Badang stronger than I am? If you will permit\nme, I will go to Singapore to try an assault with him.\"\n\n\"Very well; go to Singapore,\" said the King. Turning to the prime\nminister, Toun Parapatih, he said:\n\n\"Get ready a _praho_, for I am going to send Bandarang to Singapore.\"\nWhen all was ready, a royal litter was prepared and the minister\nembarked with the athlete, and after a while reached Singapore. Prince\nSri Rana Ouira Krama received the King's litter in the audience-\nchamber, among the radjas, ministers, body-guards, heralds, and other\ngrand officers upon his command.\n\nThen the prince, addressing the ambassador, asked: \"With what\ncommission is our brother charged?\"\n\nThe ambassador replied: \"Behold, I have received the command of your\nillustrious younger brother to bring here this subject Bandarang, to\ntry his strength with Badang. If Bandarang is vanquished, your brother\nwill place at your Majesty's feet the contents of a storehouse; and if\nBadang succumbs, you shall offer us the equivalent.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the King; \"to-morrow everything shall be arranged for\nthe struggle.\" The King retired to the palace, summoned Badang, and\nsaid to him:\n\n\"You know, Badang, that to-morrow you will have to contend with\nBandarang.\"\n\n\"My lord,\" answered Badang, \"know that this man is a powerful athlete,\nof extraordinary strength, famous in all countries. If your slave is\nvanquished will it not cast some discredit on the sovereign? If your\nMajesty thinks it wise, let us both be called into your presence\ntogether, so that I may test him; and if I feel myself capable of\ncompeting with him, we will have the contest; but if he is too strong\nfor me, then your Majesty can oppose the struggle.\"\n\n\"You are right,\" said the King. That is why, when night came, the\nprince invited Toun Parapatih Pendek, Bandarang, and their companions.\nWhen they arrived they were served with a collation. Bandarang was\nseated beside Badang, who began to test him. They tried each other's\nstrength without attracting attention.\n\nAt the end of an hour, when the guests were in wine, the King asked\nBadang if he were strong enough to struggle with Bandarang, who\ndeclared that he was equal to him. On the other hand, when Toun\nParapatih Pendek had returned to the ship, Bandarang said to him:\n\n\"Lord, if you will permit me to advise, there will be no contest\nbetween Badang and me. I might not conquer, for I have learned how\npowerful he is.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the minister; \"it is very easy to arrange that.\"\n\nSo the minister said to the King: \"It is my opinion that we should\nprevent this struggle; for if one of the contestants should be\nvanquished in some bad way, a quarrel might arise out of it between\nyour Majesty and the sovereign your brother.\"\n\nThe King agreed, and the ambassador asked leave to return home. The\nprince had a letter written for the King of Perlak. It was carried in\nstate on board the ship and the envoy, after receiving vestments of\nhonor, set sail to his own country. Arriving, he told the King all that\nhad taken place. Later Badang died and was buried at Bourou. When the\nnews of his death arrived at that country, the King of Kling sent a\ncarved stone, which is now seen at Bourou.\n\nAnd now as to the kings of Pasey. The authors of this story declare\nthat there were two brothers named Marah who lived near Pasangan. They\nwere originally from the mountain of Sanggong. The elder was named\nMara-Tchaga, and the younger Marah-Silou. Marah-Silou was engaged in\ncasting nets. Having taken some _kalang-kalang_, he rejected them and\ncast his net anew. The _kalang-kalang_ were caught again. After several\nattempts with the same result, Marah-Silou had these _kalang-kalang_\nboiled. And behold, the wretched things became gold and their froth\nbecame silver. Marah-Silou caught more _kalang-kalang_, boiled them,\nand again saw them become gold and silver. He had thus acquired much\nstore of gold and silver, when one day the news came to Marah-Tchaga\nthat his younger brother was catching _kalang-kalang_, and he was so\nirritated that he wished to kill him. When Marah-Silou learned of this\ndesign, he took refuge in the forest of Djawn. The place where he\nfished is still called the Plain of Kalang-Kalang.\n\nMarah-Silou, established in the forest of Djawn, gave gold to those who\ndwelt there, and they all obeyed his commands. One day when he was\nhunting, his dog, named Si Pasey, began to bark on a slight hill which\none would have believed made by the hand of man. Climbing the small\nhill he saw an ant as big as a cat. He took it and ate it up. The place\nwas afterward called Samodra; that is to say, \"The Big Ant.\" Now it is\nsaid that the prophet of God--blessings be upon him!--once told his\ncompanions:\n\n\"There will be a country some day, toward the south, called Samoudra.\nWhen you hear it spoken of, hasten thither to convert the inhabitants\nto Islam, for in that country many will become the friends of God. But\nthere will also be the king of a country called Mataba, whom you must\ntake with you.\"\n\nA long time after this decree of the prophet, the fakir Mahomet went to\nSamoudra. Reaching the shore, he met Marah-Silou, who was gathering\nshells. The fakir asked him:\n\n\"What is the name of this country?\"\n\n\"Its name is Samoudra,\" answered Marah-Silou.\n\n\"And what is the sovereign's name?\"\n\n\"I am the sovereign of all who dwell here,\" said Marah-Silou.\n\nThe fakir Mahomet converted Marah-Silou to Islam and taught him the\nwords of the creed. Now Marah-Silou being asleep dreamed that he was in\nthe presence of the prophet of God, and the prophet said to him,\n\"Marah-Silou, open your mouth.\" He opened it and the prophet spat in\nit, and Marah-Silou, awaking, perceived throughout his whole body a\nperfume like that of spikenard. When day broke he told his dream.\n\n\"This is truly the country of Samoudra of which the prophet of God has\nspoken,\" said the fakir Mahomet. Bringing from the ship all the royal\nensigns aboard, he proclaimed Marah-Silou king with the title of Sultan\nMelik-es-Salih.\n\nSultan Melik-es-Salih sent Sidi Ali Ghaiath-ed-Din to the country of\nPerlak. This prince had three daughters, two of blood-royal on their\nmother's side, and one born of a concubine. The latter was called the\nprincess Ganggang. When Sidi Ali Ghaiath arrived at Perlak they showed\nhim the three daughters. The two sisters of the blood-royal were seated\nlower than the princess Ganggang, who occupied a high seat. The latter,\nby order of her father, was cleaning arec nuts for her two sisters,\nlike one doing the honors of the household. She wore rose-colored\ngarments and a violet cloak. Her ears were adorned with _soubangs_ made\nwith the young leaves of the _lontar_. She was very beautiful.\n\nSidi Ali Ghaiath-ed-Din said to the King of Perlak, \"That one of your\ndaughters who is seated above is the one I ask in marriage for my\nmaster, your son.\" The envoy knew not that Princess Ganggang was the\ndaughter of a concubine.\n\nThe King burst out laughing. \"Very well,\" he said, \"let the will of my\nson be accomplished.\" Then he gave orders to equip 100 _prahos_, and\nToun Parapatih received the command to accompany the princess to the\ncountry of Samoudra.\n\nSultan Melik-es-Salih went to meet the princess as far as Djambou Ayer.\nHe introduced her into Samoudra with a thousand honors and splendors,\nand married her. The marriage accomplished, the prince gave presents to\nthe ministers and to the officers, and showed himself lavish in gold\nand silver to the poor of the country. As for Toun Parapatih Pendek, he\ntook leave to return to Perlak. Sultan Melik-es-Salih and the princess\nGanggang had two sons who received from the prince the names of Sultan\nMelik-ed-Dhahir and Sultan Melik-el-Mansour. The elder was confided to\nSidi Ali Ghaiath-ed-Din and the other to Sidi Ali Asmai-ed-Din. Years\npassed and the two young princes had grown up. Perlak had been\nconquered by an enemy come from the opposite coast, and the inhabitants\nof the country had migrated to Samoudra. Sultan Melik-es-Salih\nconceived the plan of founding a city to establish his sons there. He\nsaid to the great ones, \"To-morrow I shall go hunting.\" The next\nmorning he set out, mounted on an elephant called Perma Diouana. He\npassed to the other side of the water. When he came to land his dog Si\nPasey began to bark. The prince ran up and saw that he was barking\nbefore a hillock, sufficiently extended for the erection of a palace\nand its dependencies, level on top and well disposed. Sultan Melik had\nthe ground cleared and built a palace and a city there. After the name\nof his dog he called the palace Pasey, and established as king his son\nSultan Melik-ed-Dhahir, with Sidi Ali Ghaiath as minister. He divided\nhis men, his elephants, and his royal standards into two parts, one for\neach of his sons.\n\nSome time after this, the prince, having fallen ill, commanded the\ngrandees to assemble and called his two sons and spoke as follows: \"Oh,\nmy two sons, and you all, my companions, my last hour is approaching.\nYou men be good to those whom I leave behind. And you, my sons, beware\nof being envious of another's good, and of the wives and daughters of\nyour subjects. Maintain between you the union of two brothers, abstain\nfrom all injustice, and avoid between you every cause of quarrel.\" He\nsaid also to Sidi Ali Gaiath-ed-Din and to Sidi Asmai-ed-Din:\n\n\"Oh, my brothers, take care of these two sons. Stir not up trouble\nbetween them. Be faithful to them and never give your allegiance to\nanother king.\" The two young princes bowed their heads and wept.\n\nAs for the two ministers, \"Lord,\" they said, \"light of our eyes, we\nswear by the sovereign Master who created the worlds that we will never\nbreak our promises, that we will never lack in our fidelity or render\nhomage to another king than your two well-beloved sons.\"\n\nThen Sultan Melik-es-Salih named his son Melik-el-Mansour, King of\nSamoudra. Three days later he died and was buried in the interior of\nthe palace. Their father dead, the two young princes, his sons,\ncommanded the royal herald to assemble the officers and soldiers,\nelephants and horses, as well as the royal insignia of the country of\nPasey. And the two cities grew and flourished more and more. God knows\nbest the truth. He is our aid and our refuge.\n\nNow this is the story of the King Chehr-en-Naoui. His power was great,\nhis officers and soldiers innumerable. They told this prince that the\ncountry of Samoudra had a large population, many merchants, and a\npowerful king. Chehr-en-Naoui said to his officers:\n\n\"Which of you would be able to take the King of Samoudra?\"\n\nOne of his officers very strong and brave, Aoui Ditchou, bowed and\nsaid: \"Lord, if your Majesty will give me 4,000 chosen warriors, I will\ntake the King of Samoudra alive and bring him to the foot of your\nMajesty's throne.\"\n\nThe King gave him the 4,000 warriors and 100 ships. When they were\nready Aoui Ditchou sailed toward Samoudra, feigning that the ships were\nbent on commerce up to the very moment when they reached the end of the\nvoyage. Then he caused it to be said that he was an ambassador of the\nKing Chehr-en-Naoui, and the King of Samoudra sent some officers to\nreceive him.\n\nLanding, Aoui Ditchou put into four chests four lusty _houlou-balongs_,\nto whom he said: \"Presently, when you are in the presence of the King\nof Samoudra, open the chests, leap out, and seize the King.\" The chests\nwere fastened from within. They took them ashore in state as presents\nfrom the King Chehr-en-Naoui. When they were in the presence of the\nprince, a message couched in flattering terms was read, and the chests\nwere brought in. Immediately the _houlou-balongs_ opened the chests,\nsprang out, and seized the sovereign. The soldiers uttered fierce cries\nand unsheathed their arms to attack the band of Chehr-en-Naoui's men.\nBut the latter cried:\n\n\"If you fall upon us, we will kill your King.\"\n\nSo the soldiers paused in their attack. Aoui Ditchou and his people\nreturned, bringing with them the King of Samoudra. They crossed the sea\nand regained their own country. There the prisoner-King was conducted\nby Aoui Ditchou before King Chehr-en-Naoui, who was very joyful and\nloaded the head of the expedition and all his companions with honors.\nAs for the King of Samoudra, they made him a poultry-keeper.\n\nNow let us talk of Sidi Ali Gaiath-ed-Din. Having consulted with the\nprincipal ministers in the country of Samoudra, he equipped a ship and\npurchased a cargo of Arabic merchandise, for the inhabitants of Pasey\nat that time all knew the Arabic language. Sidi Ali and the soldiers\nwhom he embarked on the ship with him took all the ways and manners of\nthe Arabs. The minister being on board and all being made ready, they\nset sail for the country of Chehr-en-Naoui, where they arrived after a\nshort voyage. Sidi Ali landed and went to present himself to the King,\nbearing as a gift a tree of gold, of which the fruits were all sorts of\nprecious stones, and which was worth an almost inconceivable sum. When\nthe prince saw this present he asked:\n\n\"What do you want of me?\"\n\nSidi Ali replied, \"We want nothing.\"\n\nThe King was highly pleased, although surprised by such a magnificent\npresent. And he said to himself, \"Now, what can be the aim of these\npeople giving me all this?\" The pretended Arabs returned to their\nships. A few days after, the master of the ship returned to visit the\nKing. This time he brought as a present a chess-board of gold of which\nthe chessmen were of precious stones, which was worth an enormous sum.\n\n\"What do you want of me?\" again asked the prince. \"Speak, that I may\nsatisfy you.\"\n\nAnd they replied, \"We ask for nothing.\"\n\nThen they returned to the ship. Some time later, when the favorable\nmonsoon blew for their return homeward, Sidi Ali Ghaiath thought upon\nhis departure. He went to see the King, laden with a present which\nconsisted of two golden ducks, male and female, enriched with precious\nstones, and in a big golden basin. He filled this golden basin with\nwater, put in the ducks. They began to swim, dive, and pursue each\nother, a sight at which the King marvelled much.\n\n\"I beg of you to tell me,\" he said, \"what you desire of me. By the God\nwhom I worship, I swear to fulfil your wishes.\"\n\nThen Sidi Ali answered: \"Lord, if it is the accomplishment of your\nfavor, we beg that you will give us your poultry-keeper.\"\n\n\"It is the King of Pasey that you ask of me. But, very well, I grant\nhim to you.\"\n\n\"It is because he is a Mussulman,\" said the strangers, \"that we ask him\nof your Majesty.\"\n\nThe King Chehr-en-Naoui delivered therefore the Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir\nto Sidi Ali Gaiath-ed-Din, who took him on board the ship, gave him a\nbath, and then clothed him in royal raiment. The wind blew, they\nweighed anchor, set sail, and after a certain time arrived at the\ncountry of Samoudra. And God knows the truth. He is our aid and our\nrefuge.\n\nNow we are going to speak of the King Melik-el-Mansour at Samoudra.\nThis prince said one day to Sidi Ali Asmai-ed-Din:\n\n\"I would like to go and see how my brother is getting along.\"\n\nThe minister answered, \"Do not go, my lord, for fear of misfortune.\"\nAnd, indeed, he tried to restrain his master. The prince would listen\nto nothing, and finally the minister was silent. He ordered the drums\nto beat, in order to make the announcement, \"Sultan Melik-el-Mansour is\ngoing to see the country of his brother.\"\n\nSidi Ali Asmai-ed-Din was not satisfied. He was an old minister who\nknew that out of every affair causes of trouble may arise. But it was\nhis duty to obey. The prince started. He made the tour of the city of\nPasey, and then entered the palace of the Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir. There\nhe fell in love with one of the ladies-of-honor of his brother's court,\nand a quarrel arose between the two brothers on her account. Sultan\nMelik-ed-Dhahir felt in the bottom of his heart a violent irritation\ntoward his brother.\n\nNow he had a son named Radja Ahmed, very young when his father was\ncaptured, but grown up when the prince was restored from the hands of\nChehr-en-Naoui. Sidi Ali Ghaiath-ed-Din having withdrawn from affairs,\na minister named Parapatih Toulous Toukang Sikari had replaced him in\nhis ministerial functions. One day the King said to the minister:\n\n\"What is your opinion concerning the act of Sultan Melik-el-Mansour?\"\n\nThe minister answered: \"We have a means----\"\n\n\"But,\" answered the King, \"it might involve his death.\"\n\n\"If he dies,\" replied the minister, \"my name shall be no longer\nToukang.\"\n\n\"Give a family f\u00eate for your son Sultan Ahmed. We will invite Sultan\nMelik-el-Mansour to the festival.\"\n\nSultan Melik-ed-Dhahir gave orders then to decorate the city and made\npreparations for the fete, and sent to find Sultan Melik-el-Mansour.\nThis prince was with Sidi Ali Asmai-ed-Din and his officers. They\nintroduced the prince and his minister, but left the officers outside.\nWhen they had entered, Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir caused them both to be\nseized and ordered one of his officers to conduct his brother to\nMandjang. \"As for you,\" he said to Sidi Ali, \"stay here. Do not try to\ngo with your master or I'll cut off your head.\"\n\nSidi Ali answered: \"Rather let my head be separated from my body than\nthat the servant should be separated from his master.\"\n\nSo the King had his head cut off. The head was thrown into the sea and\nthe body impaled at the entrance to the Bay of Pasey. While they were\ntaking the Sultan Melik-el-Mansour toward the east in a _prabo_, at the\nmoment when they arrived near Djambou Ayer, the pilot saw a human head\nfloating in the water near the rudder. He recognized the head of Sidi\nAli. Informed of this event, Sultan Melik-el-Mansour caused the head to\nbe taken from the water. It was indeed that of his minister. Casting\nhis glances toward the land: \"Behold,\" he said, \"the Plain of\nIllusions.\" And it bears that name, \"Padang-Maya,\" to this day. The\nprince sent to his brother and demanded the body of Sidi Ali; joined\nthe head with the body, and buried both in the Plain of Illusion. Then\nhe went back to Mandjang.\n\nAfter the departure of the Sultan Melik-el-Mansour, King Melik-ed-\nDhahir had the family festival. The Sultan Melik-el-Mansour had been at\nMandjang three years when the Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir bethought him of\nhis brother.\n\n\"Alas,\" he said, \"I was truly too unwise. For a woman my brother\ndethroned, and his minister is dead.\"\n\nAnd the prince repented. He ordered some of his officers to go and find\nhis brother at Mandjang. They therefore brought back Sultan Melik-el-\nMansour with the regard due to a king. When they arrived near the Plain\nof Maya, the prince landed to visit the tomb of Sidi Ali Asmai-ed-Din.\n\"I salute you, my father,\" he said. \"Stay here, my father. As for me I\ngo away, called by my brother.\"\n\nFrom the interior of the tomb Sidi Ali answered: \"Where would the\nprince go? It is better to remain here.\"\n\nWhen the prince heard these words, he made his ablutions, said a couple\nof prayers, then stretched himself upon the tomb and expired. They bore\nto Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir the news that his brother was dead, in the\nPlain of Maya, in the tomb of Sidi Ali Asmai-ed-Din. He started at\nonce, went to the place, and had his brother, Sultan Melik-el-Mansour,\nburied with the ceremonies of great kings. Then, after returning to\nPasey, a prey to grief, he abdicated the throne in favor of his son,\nSultan Ahmed.\n\nSome time after this, Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir fell ill. He gave Sultan\nAhmed his last instructions. \"O my son,\" said he, \"light of my eyes,\ntreasure of my heart, never neglect the advice of your old servitors.\nIn every affair take counsel with your ministers. Neglect not the\nduties of piety to God, the sovereign Master. Beware of injustice to\nmen.\"\n\nSultan Ahmed heard in tears the last words of his father. The prince\ndied, and they buried him near the mosque.\n\nSultan Ahmed was for many years on the throne and governed with much\njustice. Now, the author of this story says: \"There was at Pasey a\nservant of God named Toun Djana Khatite. This man made the voyage to\nSingapore with two companions. Crossing the square of Singapore he\npassed by the palace of the King and saw the Queen. Near the palace was\nan areca tree, and while Toun Djana was looking at the Queen the tree\nsplit in two. At sight of this, King Sri Maharadja was extremely\nirritated. 'You see,' he cried, 'the conduct of Toun Djana Khatite. To\ncall the attention of the Queen, he has acted thus. And he ordered him\nto be killed. So Toun Djana was led to the place of punishment, near a\ncake-shop, where Toun Djana Khatite received the blow of the poniard;\nhis blood ran on the earth, but his body disappeared and no one could\never tell what became of it. The cake-shop-keeper covered the blood\nwith the cake-cover, and the cake-cover was changed into stone, which\nis still seen at Singapore. According to a tradition, the body of Toun\nDjana Khatite was transported to Langkaoui and there buried.\"\n\nSome time later came the sea-monsters called _toudaks_ and attacked\nSingapore. They leaped upon the shore, and people who were there died\nin great numbers, overtaken by these _toudaks_. If they struck a man on\nthe breast, they pierced to his back. If they struck the neck or the\nloins, they pierced clear through from one side to the other. There\nwere many killed. People ran about crying:\n\n\"The _toudaks_ are attacking us!\"\n\n\"What shall we do?\"\n\n\"How many dead? We shall all perish!\"\n\nPadouka Sri Maharadja in great haste mounts the elephant and goes\nforth, followed by his ministers, his body-guards, and all his\nofficers. Arriving at the seashore he sees with horror the work of\nthese monsters, the _toudaks_. Whoever was wounded by them inevitably\nperished. The number of the victims became larger and larger. The\nprince ordered the men to make a rampart of their legs, but in their\nboundings the _toudaks_ succeeded in passing this barrier. They came\nlike the rain, and the slaughter was terrible. While this was happening\na young boy said:\n\n\"Why make thus a rampart of our legs? That is an artifice very much to\nour hurt. If we should make a rampart of the trunks of banana-trees,\nwould not that be better?\"\n\nWhen Padouka Sri Maharadja heard the words of the child, \"He is right,\"\nhe said. And on his orders they hastened to construct a barrier of\nbanana-tree trunks. When the _toudaks_ came bounding along their snouts\nwere buried in the tree-trunks, and the men ran up and killed them.\nThere perished thus of these _toudaks_ a number beyond computation.\nTheir bodies formed heaps on the shore, and all the population of\nSingapore did not suffice to eat them. And the _toudaks_ ceased their\nleapings. They say, by the force of their boundings the _toudaks_\nreached the elephant of the prince and tore the sleeve of his cloak.\nAbout this they made a song:\n\n  \"The boundings of the _toudaks_ tore\n   The mantle which the Sultan wore,\n   But here they ceased their onset wild,\n   Thanks to the wisdom of a child.\"\n\nWhile Padouka Sri Maharadja was returning, the grandees said to him:\n\"Lord, this child, though so young, has much wit. What will it be when\nhe has grown up? You had better get rid of him.\" That is why they found\nit just that the King should give the order for him to be killed.\n\nAfter they had caused this young boy to perish, it seems that the city\nof Singapore felt the weight of his blood.\n\nPadouka Sri Maharadja reigned some time still and then died. He had as\nsuccessor his son Padja Is Keuder Chah, who married the daughter of\nToun Parapatih Toulous, and by her had a son named Radja Ahmed Timang-\ntimanganga Radja Besar Mouda. This young prince was handsome and well\nformed, without equal in those days. When he was of age his father\nmarried him to the daughter of the King Salamiam, King of Kota-\nMahlikie, who was named Kamar-al-Adjaaib, a princess of unrivalled\nbeauty. King Is Keuder Chah had a _bendahari_, or major-domo, named\nLang Radjouna Tapa, of the race of ancient inhabitants of Singapore,\nfather of a very beautiful girl in the court of the King. The other\ncourt ladies calumniated this young woman, and the King in a rage\nordered her to be impaled in the corner of the marketplace.\n\nLang Radjouna Tapa was extremely wounded by the treatment of his\ndaughter. \"If in truth my daughter had offended,\" said he, \"you might\nhave simply had her killed. But why dishonor us thus?\" On this he wrote\na letter to Java saying, \"If the Batara of Madjapahit wishes to attack\nSingapore let him come at once, for I will give him entrance into the\nfortifications.\"\n\nWhen the Batara of Madjapahit had read this letter he caused to be\nequipped 300 junks and a great quantity of other boats. A hundred\nthousand Javanese embarked, crossed the sea, and attacked Singapore. At\nthe end of several days King Is Keuder commanded his major-domo to\ncarry rice for the rations of the troops. Lang Radjouna Tapa answered,\n\"There is no more, my Lord.\" For he wished to betray him. At daybreak\nhe opened the gates of the fortifications and the Javanese entered.\nInside the town there was a frantic combat. So many people were killed\non each side that blood flowed like water. From this came the marks of\nblood which are seen to this day in the Plain of Singapore. The natives\nceased their struggle and King Is Keuder escaped, descending from\nSalitar to the Moara coast. By the will of God, the house of Lang\nRadjouna Tapa was overturned, the storehouse for rice fell to pieces,\nand the rice was changed to earth. The _bendahari_ himself and his wife\nwere changed to stone, and these stones are still found in the ditch at\nSingapore. After this victory the Javanese returned to Madjapahit.\n\nOn arriving at Moara, King Is Keuder halted at nightfall. Now there\ncame a multitude of iguanas, and, when day dawned they saw them\ngathered in a crowd near the halting-place. They killed them and threw\ntheir bodies into the river. But at night, iguanas again came in mass.\nThe next morning the Singaporeans killed them, but that night as many\nmore arrived. So that the place became putrid from the multitude of\ntheir bodies. The quarter is still called Biaoak Bousok, or \"Putrid\nIguanas.\"\n\nKing Is Keuder Chah set out and came to another place, where he built a\nfort. But all they constructed by day was overturned by night. And the\nplace still bears the name of Kota-Bourok, or \"Ruined Fort.\"\n\nStarting from there the King advanced into the interior during many\ndays and came to the Saning Oudjong. He found this place agreeable and\nleft a minister there. Hence comes it that to this day Saning Oudjong\nis the residence of a minister. Then the King returned toward the coast\nnear a river at the shore of the sea. The river was called Bartain. Is\nKeuder Chah halted at the foot of a very bushy tree. Then he began\nhunting. His dog, chasing some game, was struck by the foot of a little\nwhite gazelle and fell into the water. On this the prince cried:\n\n\"Here is a good place to build a city, for even the little gazelles are\nvaliant here.\"\n\nAnd all the grandees said, \"His Majesty is right.\" The King therefore\ngave orders for the construction of a city at this place. He asked,\n\"What is the name of this tree against which I have been leaning?\"\n\nSomeone answered, \"It is a malaka-tree.\" \"Very well,\" said he, \"let\nMalaka be the name of the city.\"\n\nThe prince established himself at Malaka. He had lived thirty-two years\nat Singapore, up to the capture of that town by the Javanese. He lived\nfor three years more at Malaka, and then died, by the vicissitudes of\nthis world, and had as successor his son Radja Besar Mouda.\n\nThis prince governed with justice. He regulated the etiquette of the\ncourt. He first established a ministry of ceremonies to direct people\nwho came to Balerong, and forty heralds who stood below the throne\nready to take the orders of the King and carry to him the words of the\npublic. He instituted among the sons of the grandees a body of pages\nserving as royal messengers and bearing everywhere the royal equipage.\n\nThis prince had three sons, Radeu Bagousa, Radeu Tengah, and Radeu\nAnoumah, who all married daughters of Bauhara Toun Parapatih Toulous.\nAt his death, Radeu Bagousa took his functions with the title of Toun\nParapatih Permouka Berdjadjar.\n\nWhen, by the vicissitudes of the world, King Besar Mouda died, his son\nRadeu Tengah succeeded him. The latter had a son called Radja Kitchil\nBessar, who at his death was his successor. He was just and guarded the\ninterests of his subjects. No one in his time among the kings of the\nworld equalled him in liberality. And the city of Malaka became large,\nwell peopled, and the meeting-place of merchants. This King married a\ndaughter of Toun Parapatih Permouka Berdjadjar, and by her had two\nsons, Radja Kitchil Mainbang and Radja Makat. He reigned for a certain\ntime, when one night he dreamed that he was in the presence of the\nglorious prophet of God, on whom be blessings! And the prophet said to\nhim, \"Recite the words of the creed.\" And Radja Kitchil Bessar did as\nthe prophet commanded.\n\n\"Your name shall be Sultan Mahomet,\" said the prophet. \"To-morrow at\nthe moment of the Asr (in the afternoon) there will arrive a ship from\nDjedda, from which the men will descend to pray on the shore of Malaka.\nFollow all their orders.\"\n\n\"Yes, Lord,\" replied the prince, \"I shall obey your word.\"\n\nAnd the prophet disappeared. When day came the King awaked. He\nperceived upon his body the odor of spikenard and saw that he bore\ncertain marks. \"It is clear,\" he thought, \"that my dream does not come\nfrom Satan.\" And he began to recite without relaxation the words of the\ncreed.\n\nThe ladies-of-honor who were in the palace were very much surprised to\nhear the King speak thus. \"Has the King been touched by Satan, or has\nhe lost his wits? Let us hasten to inform the _bendahari_.\" They ran to\ntell the _bendahari,_ who came at once, entered the palace, and saw the\nKing repeating without cessation the words of the creed.\n\n\"What is this language in which the King is speaking?\" said the\nminister.\n\n\"Last night,\" said the King, \"I dreamed that I was in the presence of\nthe glorious prophet.\" And he told his dream to the _bendahari_.\n\n\"If your dream is not an illusion,\" said the latter, \"what is the\nsign?\"\n\n\"Here is the sign that proves that I have really seen in a dream the\nprophet of God. Furthermore, the prophet told me: 'To-day, at Asr,\nthere will arrive a ship from Djedda, from which the people will\ndescend to say their prayers on the shore of Malaka. Follow their\ndirections.'\"\n\nThe _bendahari_ was surprised at seeing the marks on the King.\n\n\"Truly,\" he said, \"if a ship arrives at the hour stated, then your\ndream is a reality. If it does not arrive, we shall judge that Satan\nmust have troubled your spirit.\"\n\nThe King replied, \"My father is right.\" And the _bendahari_ returned to\nhis house.\n\nNow at the hour of Asr there arrived a ship from Djedda which cast\nanchor. The master came on shore. He was called Sidi Abd-el-Aziz. He\nsaid his prayers on the shore of Malaka. The inhabitants, astonished at\nthe sight, said:\n\n\"Why does he stoop so and prostrate himself so?\"\n\nAnd to see him better, the people pressed around, leaving no spot\nvacant, and making a great tumult.\n\nThe noise reached the palace, and the King mounted an elephant and came\nin haste, accompanied by his grandees. He saw the master making all the\nceremonies of his prayer, and all was in evident accord with the dream.\n\n\"It is exactly as in my dream,\" he exclaimed to the _bendahari_ and the\ngrandees.\n\nWhen the master had finished praying, the King made his elephant stoop,\nand took up the master with him and carried him to the palace. The\n_bendahari_ and the grandees all became Mussulmans, and by command of\nthe King so did all the population, men and women, great and small,\nyoung and old. The master taught the King the ceremonies of prayer, and\ngave him the name of Sultan Mahomet Chah. The _bendahari_ received the\ntitle of Sri Ouak Radja; that is to say, \"Paternal Uncle of the King,\"\nwhich he was in fact. And that is the first title of the _bendahari_.\n\nSultan Mahomet regulated the ceremonial customs of the court. He was\nthe first to prohibit yellow for the clothes of the person strange to\nthe court, for handkerchiefs, borders of curtains, pillow-cases,\nmattresses, coverings of all kinds, ornaments of every nature, as well\nas for the decoration of houses.\n\nFurthermore the use of only three kinds of garments was permitted--the\n_kain_, the _badjoa_, and the _destar_. It was also forbidden to\nconstruct houses with projections sustained upon pillars not touching\nthe ground, or with pillars extending beyond the roof or with\nobservatories. The _prahos_ could have no windows in front. It was\nforbidden to carry clasps or ornaments of gold on the _kris_. No one\nstrange to the court could have gold rings nor pins nor jingling\nbangles of gold and silver. Nobody without the royal consent had the\nright to wear on his clothes gilding of any sort; but the authorization\nonce granted, one might wear it indefinitely. When a man presented\nhimself at the palace, if he had a vesture falling beneath the girdle,\nif his _kris_ was not attached in front, if he was not clad in a\n_sabec_, he was not admitted, whatever might be his distinction. If\nanyone entered with his _kris_ attached behind, the officer took it\naway from him.\n\nSuch were formerly the prohibitions of the Malay kings. Whoever\ntransgressed was guilty of _lese-majeste_ and was condemned to pay a\nfine of one to five katis. White parasols were held in higher esteem\nthan yellow ones, because they could be seen at a greater distance.\nThat is why they were ranked higher; the first were for the King and\nthe second for the princes. The objects of the king's private use, such\nas the spittoon, the ewer for his ablutions, the fan, and other like\nobjects, had no fixed place, except the betel-tray and the sword, which\nthey kept at the right and left of the sovereign. At the arrival and\ndeparture of an ambassador, the servitors of the King brought from the\npalace dishes and basins which were received by the head of the\n_bataras_ and deposited near the _bendahari_. They gave a dish and a\nscarf to the bearer of the letter. If the missive came from Pasey or\nfrom Harau, it was received with all the royal pomp--drum, flute,\ntrumpet, kettledrum, and two white parasols together; but the bugle did\nnot figure at this reception. The ministers preceded the elephant\nbearing the message, the bataras followed it with the _sida-sida_. The\nletter was borne by the chief of the _bedaouenda_, and they placed the\nelephant at the extremity of the _balei_. For the kings of these two\ncountries were equal in greatness to the King of Malaka. Younger or\nolder, all gave the salaam.\n\nHaving reached the audience-chamber, the letter was received by the\nchief of heralds of the right, the one of the left being charged with\ntransmitting the words of the King to the ambassador, and the herald of\nthe right transmitted the answer. If the message came from another\ncountry than Pasey and Harau, they suppressed part of the men. The\n_cortege_ included only the drum, the flute, and a yellow parasol. They\ntook, as was suitable, now an elephant, now a horse, and they halted\noutside the first exterior gate. When the message came from a more\nconsiderable sovereign, they employed the flute and two parasols, one\nwhite and one yellow. The elephant passed through the exterior gate,\nfor formerly the royal entrance included seven fortifications. At his\ndeparture, the ambassador received a complete investiture, even were he\nonly a simple ambassador of Rakan. The same gift was offered to our own\nambassadors at the moment of their departure.\n\nWhen the King conferred a title, he gave audience in the _falerong_,\nwith the following procedure: According to the rank, the person to be\nhonored was brought on an elephant, on horseback, or simply on foot,\nwith parasol, drum, and flute. There were green, blue, and red\nparasols. The noblest were the yellow and the white, which with the\nkettle-drums represented the height of distinction. The yellow with the\ntrumpet was also very distinguished; they were the parasols of the\nprinces and greatest personages. The violet, red, and green parasols\nwere those of the _sida-sida_, of the _bataras_, and of the _houlou\nbalongs_. The blue and black ones served for any other person summoned\nto receive a title. When the personage arrived at the palace, he was\ndetained without. Then they read before the King a very fine piece. It\nwas a descendant of Batl that held this office. The piece read, they\ntook it out. He who received it was of the family of the candidate for\nhonors. With this piece they brought a _tetampan_ scarf with which the\nreader invested the candidate, whom he then introduced into the\naudience-chamber. There a mat was stretched for him to sit upon in\nwhatever place the King designated.\n\nThen arrived the vestments. For a personage promoted to the ranks of\nthe _bendahari_ there were five trays. The sons of radjas and the grand\nofficers had four trays only, and so on down through the various ranks.\nThe servitors of the King charged with this duty approached the\nbeneficiary and placed the vestments upon his shoulders. He crossed his\narms, to hold the vestments in place, and they took him outside. The\netiquette in that was the same for ambassadors awarded an investiture,\neach according to the rights of his rank. The beneficiary dressed\nhimself outside and then re-entered. They decorated him with a frontlet\nand with bracelets, for every man who received a title wore bracelets,\neach according to his dignity. Some had bracelets in the form of a\ndragon with amulets, others had bracelets of precious stones, others of\nblue enamel, others of silver. These wore them on both wrists, those on\nonly one. The beneficiary thus decorated went and bowed before the\nKing. Then he returned accompanied according to his rank, or by the\nperson who introduced him. The _cort\u00e8ge_ included now a drum and a\nflute alone, now trumpets or kettledrums, sometimes a white parasol;\nbut the white parasol was a rare honor, as well as the kettle-drums,\nfor the yellow parasol and the trumpet were very hard to obtain in\nthose times.\n\nOn festival days, when the King went forth in a palanquin, he was\nsurrounded by high officers of state. At the head, before the\nsovereign, marched the _bataras_ and the _houlou balongs_, each\nfollowing their charge. Footmen, also before the King, bore the royal\ninsignia. The royal pikes were at the right and left; the _bataras_ had\nsword at shoulder. Before them marched the lancers. When the King gives\na festival it is the _panghoulou bendahari_ who arranges everything\ninside the palace, stretches mats, decorates the _balerong_, and places\nthe _bangings_ on the ceilings. It is he who looks after the repasts\nand sends the invitations; for the servitors of the King, his\n_bendahari_, his tax-gatherers, and the receiver of the port all depend\non the administration of the _panghoulou bendahari_. He invites the\nguests and the _temonggoreg_ seats them. In the hall the guests eat\nfour at a dish, to the end of the platform. If any one of the various\nfours are lacking the others eat without him, by threes or by twos or\neven one alone. For it is not permitted for those below to ascend to\nmake up the number. The _bendahari_ eats alone or from the same dish as\nthe princes.\n\nSuch was in former days the etiquette of Malaka. There were many other\nregulations, but to relate them all would weary the attentions of my\nreaders. At the month of Ramadhau, at the twenty-seventh night, while\nit was still light, they went in state to make adorations to the\nmosque. The _Temonggoreg_ was at the head of the elephant. They first\ntook in state to the mosque the betel-tray, the royal insignia, and the\ndrum. When night came, the King started for the mosque, following the\nceremonial of festival days, made the prayer of perfumes, and returned.\n\nThe next day the _laksamana_ carried in state the turban, for the Malay\nkings were accustomed to go to the mosque in a turban, a _badjon_, and\na _sarong_. These vestments were forbidden at weddings except by\nexpress permission. It was also forbidden to dress in the Hindoo\nfashion. Only those persons who had worn this costume for a long time\nwere allowed to wear it at prayers and at weddings. Festival days,\ngreat or small, the _bendahari_ and the grandees assembled at the\npalace, and the _panghoulou bendahari_ brought in pomp the palanquin.\nAs soon as they saw it appear, the persons seated in the _balei_\ndescended and stood about. Seven times they beat upon the drum, and\neach time the trumpet sounded. After the seventh, the King set out on\nan elephant and came to the platform erected for that purpose, which he\nmounted. At sight of him, all those present bowed to the earth, except\nthe _bendahari_, who mounted the platform to receive him. The palanquin\nhaving approached, the King placed himself in it, and they started for\nthe mosque according to the ceremonial above mentioned.\n\nSuch was formerly the etiquette of the Malay kings. Such I learned it,\nsuch I tell it. If I commit any error, I desire to be convicted by\nanyone who has given attention to this story, and implore the\nindulgence of the reader.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PRINCESS DJOUHER-MANIKAM\n\n[_Translated by Aristide Marre and Chauncey C. Starkweather_]\n\n\nThis is the history of the Princess Djouher-Manikam, whose renown is\ncelebrated in all lands, windward and leeward.\n\nThere was in the city of Bagdad a king named Haroun-er-Raschid,\nsovereign of a vast empire. He was a prince who feared God the\nalmighty, and worthy of all praise, for he was a king descended from\nthe prophet. After having lived for some time in his kingdom, he\ndesired to start on a pilgrimage. So he addressed his ministers and his\nmilitary chiefs and spoke to them as follows:\n\n\"O you all, my subjects, my officers, what is your opinion? I would\nfain make a pilgrimage to the house of God.\"\n\nThe cadi, prostrating himself, answered: \"Sire, King of the world, the\nwill of your sublime Majesty is very just, but in my opinion your\ndeparture would cause the ruin of the inhabitants of the fields, and\nthose of your subjects who accompany you will have much to suffer.\"\n\nThe prince, having heard these words, said: \"The opinion of the cadi is\nloyal, and you, my officers, tell what is your advice.\"\n\nThe officers arose, then they prostrated themselves and spoke as\nfollows: \"Sire, King of the world, we, your servants, beg you a\nthousand and a thousand times to cause your forgiveness to descend upon\nour heads, but how will your Majesty accomplish the pilgrimage? In whom\ncan you trust to protect the country and watch over the palace?\"\n\nThe prince having heard these words of his officers, none of whom\napproved of the pilgrimage, kept silence and restrained his anger, and\nthen departed and returned to the palace. Some days after this, by the\nwill of the most high God, the heart of the prince felt more keenly\nstill the desire to make the pilgrimage. He gave orders to gather\ntogether the interpreters of the law, the wise men, and the _muftis_,\nas well as the officers. When they were all assembled, the prince went\nto the audience-chamber, and there before the officers of the court he\nquestioned one of the doctors. It was the _mufti_ of the city of\nBagdad. He, prostrating himself, said: \"The pilgrimage of his Majesty\nwould be an excellent work, but is it of absolute necessity? For the\nvoyage will be very long, and there is no one, my lord, who would be\ncapable of ruling in the place of your sublime Majesty.\"\n\nThe prince answered: \"He in whom we first of all place our trust is\nGod. We shall hope then in the blessing of his envoy. We shall leave\nthe cadi here, and if it pleases God the most high, we shall return\npromptly as soon as we have accomplished the pilgrimage.\"\n\nThe King therefore caused to be equipped and provided with all sorts of\nprovisions, those of his subjects who were going to accompany him, and\nwhen, the favorable moment had arrived he started with the Queen, some\nof the maids-of-honor, and his son named Minbah Chahaz. He took his\nson, but he left behind, guarded in the palace, his daughter called the\nPrincess Djouher-Manikam. In those times there was no one in the\ncountry of Bagdad who surpassed in beauty the Princess Djouher-Manikam.\nFurthermore, she had in her heart the fear of God the most high and\nworthy of all praise, and would not cease her prayers.\n\nAfter travelling for some time, the prince her father arrived at Mecca,\nand fulfilled his duties as a pilgrim. He recited the appropriate\nprayers. But observing that there was still a great quantity of\nprovisions, the prince said to his officers:\n\n\"It is good for us to wait a year or so, for our provisions are yet\nconsiderable.\"\n\nThe officers replied: \"It is well, lord of the world! Whatever may be\nyour Majesty's commands, we place them above our heads.\" \"Since it is\nthus,\" answered the prince, \"it is fitting that we should send a letter\nthus conceived: Peace and blessing upon the cadi: I place my trust in\nGod first of all, and in the cadi, to guard my kingdom, palace, and my\nchild the Princess Djouher-Manikam. Be a faithful guardian, neglect\nnothing in the cares to be given to my kingdom, for I am going to\nremain another year for the great pilgrimage.'\"\n\nThe prince's letter reached the cadi. The latter gave all his efforts\nto the good administration of the country, and, according to the words\nof the prince, he avoided every negligence.\n\nBut one night while he was on watch near the fortifications of the\nKing's palace, Satan came to him and slid into his heart a temptation.\nThe cadi thought in his heart: \"The King's daughter is of a marvellous\nbeauty; her name, Djouher-Mani-kam, is charming; and her face is\nlovely. Since it is thus, I must marry this daughter of the King.\" The\ncadi called the man who was guarding the gate, exclaiming:\n\n\"Ho! Guardian of the gate! Open unto me.\"\n\nThe guardian of the gate demanded, \"Who is there?\"\n\nThe cadi replied, \"It is I, the cadi.\"\n\nSo the guardian promptly opened the gate, and the cadi entered within\nthe fortification, then went up into the palace and found the princess\nthere saying her evening prayers. He hid behind the lamp in a corner\nwhich was dark. When her prayer was finished, the Princess Djouher-\nManikam cast her eyes in that direction and saw there was someone\nstanding there in the shadow, so three times again she said the \"verse\nof the Throne\"; but she saw that the vision had not yet vanished from\nher eyes.\n\nThen the princess said in her heart: \"What in the world is that? Is it\na ghost? Is it a demon? Is it a djinn? If it were, it would have\nnecessarily disappeared when I recited the 'verse of the Throne.'\"\n\nThe cadi heard these words and said: \"O Princess Djouher-Manikam, it is\nI, the cadi.\"\n\n\"What are you doing here?\" asked the princess. He answered, \"I wish to\nmarry you.\"\n\nThe Princess Djouher-Manikam said: \"O cadi! Why do you act so to me?\nHave you then no fear of God the most high and worthy of all praise? Do\nyou not blush before the face of my ancestor the prophet Mahomet, the\nenvoy of God?  May the peace and blessings of God be upon him! As for\nme, I am the servant of the Lord and I belong to the religion of the\nenvoy of God. I fear to marry now. And you, cadi, why do you act so? My\nfather gave you a charge. He sent you a letter which commanded you to\nprotect the country and all who dwelt in his palace. Why do you conduct\nyourself in this fashion toward me?\"\n\nThe cadi, hearing these words of the Princess Djouher-Manikam, felt a\ngreat confusion in his heart. He went out of the palace and returned\nhome full of trouble and emotion. When it was day, the cadi sent a\nletter to the King Haroun-er-Raschid at Mecca. It was thus conceived:\n\"Your Majesty left me to be guardian of his kingdom, his palace, and\nhis daughter. Now, the Princess Djouher-Manikam desires to marry me.\nThis is the reason why I send this letter to your Majesty.\" Thus spake\nthe cadi in his letter.\n\nWhen it reached the prince and he had read it, he immediately summoned\nhis son Minbah-Chahaz. He came in haste, and the King gave him a\ncutlass and said, \"Return to Bagdad and slay your sister, because she\nwill bring shame upon the family by marrying now.\"\n\nMinbah-Chahaz bowed before his father. Then he set out to return to his\nown country.\n\nArriving at the end of his journey, he entered the city, and went up to\nthe palace of the Princess Djouher-Manikam. She was filled with joy and\nsaid, \"Welcome, O my brother!\"\n\nMinbah-Chahaz answered, \"O my little sister, our parents will remain\nfor the great pilgrimage.\"\n\nThe brother and sister thus chatting together, the Princess Djouher-\nManikam said, \"O my brother, I wish to sleep.\"\n\n\"It is well, my sister,\" answered Minbah-Chahaz; \"sleep while your\nbrother combs his little sister's hair.\" And the princess Djouher-\nManikam slept.\n\nHer brother then took a cushion, which he slipped under the head of the\nyoung virgin his sister; then he thought in his heart: \"If I do not\nexecute the commands of my father, I shall be a traitor to him. But,\nalas, if I kill my sister, I shall not have a sister any more. If I do\nnot kill her, I shall certainly commit a crime against the most high,\nbecause I shall not have obeyed the order of my father. I will fulfil\nthen my father's will. It is a duty obligatory on all children. What\ngood are these subterfuges?\" His resolution thus confirmed, he bound\nhis handkerchief over his eyes and directed his cutlass against his\nsister's neck. But at that instant, by the will of God the most high, a\nlittle gazelle came up and, by the power of God the most high, placed\nits neck upon the neck of the princess Djouher-Manikam, saying, \"I will\ntake the place of the princess Djouher-Manikam.\" And the little gazelle\nwas killed by Minbah-Chahaz. That done he unbound his eyes and saw a\nlittle gazelle lying dead with its throat cut, by the side of his young\nsister the princess Djouher-Manikam.\n\nAt this sight, Minbah-Chahaz was stricken with astonishment. He thought\nin his heart: \"Since it is so with my sister, she must be entirely\ninnocent, and cannot have commited the least fault. Nevertheless,\nalthough I am confident that she was calumniated by the cadi I must\ntell my father that I have killed her.\"\n\nMinbah-Chahaz set out then for Mecca, to find the prince his father.\nWhen he had arrived at Mecca he presented to his father the cutlass\nstill stained with blood. The King Haroun-er-Raschid cried, \"Praise be\nto God, the Lord of the worlds. Our shame is now effaced, since you\nhave poniarded your sister and she is dead.\" Such were the deeds of\nthis first story.\n\nThe princess Djouher-Manikam, having awakened after the departure of\nMinbah-Chahaz, saw that her brother was no longer there, but that at\nher side there was a little gazelle with its throat cut. She thought in\nher heart: \"The cadi has slandered me to my father, and that is why my\nbrother came here with orders to kill me.\" The princess Djouher-Manikam\nfelt a great shame and thought in her heart, \"Since it is so, I must\nretire to a hidden place.\" Now in the King's park there was a solitary\nplace in the midst of a vast deserted plain. There was a pond of very\nagreeable appearance there, many kinds of fruit-trees and flowers, and\nan oratory beautifully built. The princess Djouher-Manikam set out and\nretired to this place to pray to God the most high and worthy of all\npraise. She was established there for some time when, by the will of\nGod the most high, a certain thing happened.\n\n\n\nSECOND STORY\n\n\nThere was in the country of Damas a king who was named Radja Chah\nDjouhou. This King wished to go hunting in the deserted forests. His\nfirst minister said to him, bowing low: \"O my lord, King of the world,\nwhy does your Majesty wish to go hunting in foreign countries?\"\n\nKing Chah Djouhou replied: \"I insist upon my plan of going to hunt in\nforeign lands, in forests far removed from ours. I wish to go from\nplace to place, from plain to plain. Such is my will.\" The prince set\nout therefore accompanied by his ministers, his chiefs, and his\nservants.\n\nThey had all been hunting for some time and had not yet found a single\nbit of game. The prince had directed his march toward the forests of\nthe country of Bagdad. These forests were of immense extent. The heat\nwas excessive, and the prince, being very thirsty, wanted a drink of\nwater. The people who generally carried water for the King said to him:\n\"O lord, sovereign of the world, your Majesty's provision of water is\nentirely exhausted.\"\n\nThe prince then asked of his officers and servants: \"Which of you can\nget me water? I will reward him with riches and with slaves.\"\n\nThese words were heard by one of his officers named Asraf-el-Kaum. He\nsaid: \"O my lord, sovereign of the world, give me the vase which will\nserve for water, and I will go and seek water for your Majesty.\"\n\nThen the prince said to the people who had brought water for his use,\n\"Give my emerald pitcher into the hands of Asraf-el-Kaum.\"\n\nThe latter bowed low and started to seek water. Seeing from afar a very\nlarge fig-tree, he advanced in that direction. Arriving near the tree\nhe saw at its base an oratory and a pond. At the oratory there was a\nwoman of very great beauty. The splendor of her countenance shone like\nthat of the full moon at its fourteenth day. Asraf-el-Kaum, astonished\nand moved with admiration, thought in his heart: \"Is this a human\ncreature, or is it a peri?\" and Asraf-el-Kaum saluted the princess\nDjouher-Manikam, who returned the salutation.\n\nThen the princess asked him, \"What is your desire in coming here to my\ndwelling?\"\n\nAsraf-el-Kaum answered, \"I have come here to ask you for water, for I\nhave lost my way.\"\n\nThe princess said, \"Take water, lord.\"\n\nAsraf-el-Kaum plunged the emerald pitcher into the pond, and filled it\nwith water. Then he asked permission to return.\n\nArriving near the King Chah Djouhou he presented the pitcher to the\nprince, who seized it quickly and drank.\n\n\"Asraf-el-Kaum,\" said the prince, \"where did you find such fresh and\ndelicious water? In all my life I have never drunk the like.\"\n\nAsraf-el-Kaum answered: \"O my lord, sovereign of the world, there is a\ngarden in the middle of the plain, and in this garden there is a very\nlarge and bushy fig-tree, and at the foot of this tree there is a pond,\nand near this pond there is an oratory. At this oratory there was a\nwoman who was reading the Koran. This charmingly beautiful woman has no\nequal in this world. I saluted her and then returned to the presence of\nthe sovereign of the world. That is what I saw, my lord.\"\n\n\"Conduct me to this place,\" said the King.\n\n\"O sovereign of the world, if your Majesty wishes to go thither, let it\nbe with me alone. Let not my lord take his people with him, for it is a\nwoman, and naturally she would be ashamed.\"\n\nThe prince set out then on horseback with Asraf-el-Kaum. The princess\nDjouher-Manikam, seeing two cavaliers approach, thought in her heart:\n\"I must hide myself, so that I may not be seen.\" So she left the\noratory and went toward the fig-tree. She addressed a prayer to God the\nmost high and worthy of all praise, in these terms:\n\n\"O God, I beseech thee, give me a refuge in this tree, for thy servant,\nO Lord, is ashamed to look upon the faces of these infidels.\"\n\nThen by the will of God the most high, the tree opened in two and the\nprincess Djouher-Manikam entered by the split, and the tree closed and\nbecame as it was before. The King Chah Djouhou and Asraf-el-Kaum\narrived at the oratory, but the prince saw nothing of the princess\nDjouher-Manikam. He was astonished and said:\n\n\"O Asraf-el-Kaum, the woman has gone. But just a moment ago I saw her\nfrom afar, seated at the oratory, and now she has suddenly\ndisappeared.\" The prince added: \"O Asraf-el-Kaum, perhaps, as with the\nprophet Zachariah (upon whom be blessings!), her prayer has been\nanswered and she has entered this tree.\"\n\nThen he offered this prayer to God the most high and worthy, of all\npraise: \"O God, if thou wilt permit that this woman be united to thy\nservant, then grant her to him.\"\n\nThe prayer of the King Chah Djouhou was heard, and a woman of dazzling\nbeauty appeared before his eyes. He desired to seize her, but the\nprincess Djouher-Manikam pronounced these words: \"Beware of touching\nme, for I am a true believer.\" Hearing these words the King Chah\nDjouhou drew back, a little ashamed. Then he said:\n\n\"Woman, what is your country? Whose child are you, and what is your\nname?\"\n\nThe princess answered: \"For a long time I have dwelt here, and I have\nno father nor mother. My name is Djouher-Manikam.\"\n\nThe King, hearing these words of the princess Djouher-Manikam, took off\nhis cloak and gave it to the princess, who covered all her body with\nit. Then she got up and descended to the ground. Then King Chah\nDjouhou, dismounting from his horse, received her, put her on his\nhorse, and took her to the country of Damas.\n\nAsraf-el-Kaum then said to the King: \"O my lord, sovereign of the\nworld, you made a promise to your servant. Be not careless nor\nforgetful, my lord.\"\n\n\"Asraf-el-Kaum, be not disturbed. I will fulfil my promise to you. If\nit pleases God, when I have arrived in our own country, I shall\ncertainly give you all that I promised you.\"\n\nKing Chah Djouhou set out for the country of Damas.\n\nAfter a certain time on the way, the prince came to the city of Damas\nand entered his palace. He commanded one of his pages to summon the\ncadi, and a page went promptly to call him. The latter, in all haste,\nentered the presence of the King. Chah Djouhou said: \"O cadi, marry me\nto the princess Djouher-Manikam.\" And the cadi married them. After the\ncelebration of the marriage the prince Chah Djouhou gave to Asraf-el-\nKaum 1,000 dinars and some of his slaves, both men and women. King\nDjouhou and Princess Djouher-Manikam were happy and full of tenderness\nfor each other. Within a few years the princess had two sons, both very\nbeautiful. The prince loved these children very fondly. But above all\nhe loved his wife. He was full of tender solicitude for her, and bore\nhimself with regard to her with the same careful attention that a man\nuses who carries oil in the hollow of his hand. Some time later\nPrincess Djouher-Manikam had another son of great beauty. The prince\nloved this third child tenderly. He gave him a great number of nurses\nand governesses, as is the custom for the children of the greatest\nkings. And he never ceased to bestow upon him the most watchful care.\n\nIt happened one day that the ministers, the chiefs, and the courtiers\nof the King, all gathered in his presence, were enjoying all sorts of\nsport and amusements. The prince showed himself very joyous, and the\nprincess herself played and amused herself with the three children. Her\ncountenance shone with the brightness of rubies; but happening to think\nof her father, her mother, and her brother, she began to weep and said:\n\"Alas, how unhappy I am! If my father, mother, and brother could see my\nthree children, necessarily their affection for me would be greater.\"\nAnd the princess Djouher-Manikam burst into sobs. The prince, who was\nnot far from there, heard her, and as the princess did not stop weeping\nhe asked her: \"O princess, why do you weep thus? What do I lack in your\neyes? Is it riches or physical beauty or noble birth? Or is it the\nspirit of justice? Tell me what is the cause of your tears?\"\n\nPrincess Djouher-Manikam answered: \"Sovereign of the world, your Majesty\nhas not a single fault. Your riches equal those of Haroun. Your beauty\nequals that of the prophet Joseph (peace be upon him!). Your extraction\nequals that of the envoy of God (Mahomet). May the benediction of God\nand blessings rest upon him! Your justice equals that of King\nRouchirouan. I don't see a single fault in you, my lord.\"\n\nKing Chah Djouhou said: \"If it is thus, why then does my princess shed\ntears?\"\n\nPrincess Djouher-Manikam answered: \"If I wept thus while playing with\nmy three children, it is because I thought that if my father, my\nmother, and my brother should see my three children, necessarily their\naffection for me would be greater. And that is why I shed tears.\"\n\nKing Chah Djouhou said to her: \"O my young wife, dear princess, are\nyour father and mother still living? What is your father's name?\"\n\nPrincess Djouher-Manikam answered, \"O my lord, my father is named\nHaroun-er-Raschid, King of Bagdad.\"\n\nClasping her in his arms and kissing her, the prince asked her: \"Why,\nuntil this day have you not told the truth to your husband?\"\n\nAnd the princess answered: \"I wished to avow the truth, but perhaps my\nlord would not have had faith. It is on account of the children that I\ntell the truth.\"\n\nKing Chah Djouhou answered: \"Since it is so, it is fitting that we\nshould start, and make a visit upon King Haroun-er-Raschid.\"\n\nHe called his ministers, ordered them to make all the preparations, and\ncommanded them to place in order ingots of gold and ingots of silver on\nwhich were graven the name of King Haroun-er-Raschid; and his\nministers' vestments woven of goats' hair and fine wool, stuffs of\nprice, many kinds of superb precious stones of various colors, formed\nthe burden of forty camels, which bore these presents to the King, his\nfather-in-law, in the city of Bagdad.\n\nDuring the night Princess Djouher thought in her heart: \"If the two\nkings meet, there will necessarily be discord, and at the end\nseparation.\" Having thus thought she said to her husband: \"O sovereign\nof the world, do not set out at the same time with me, for in my\nopinion the meeting of the two kings would have as a final result a\ndisagreement. Permit me therefore to start first with the three\nchildren, that I may present them to my father and mother. Give the\ncommand to conduct me to the country of Bagdad, near my father, to\nwhomsoever you shall judge worthy of your confidence for this mission.\"\n\nWhen the prince heard these words of the princess whom he loved so\ntenderly and whose wishes he granted, he ordered his ministers and\nchiefs to arrange the transport of the princess and her children.\nAddressing the ministers he said as follows: \"O you my ministers, whom\namong you can I charge to conduct safely my wife and three children to\nBagdad, near their ancestor King Haroun-er-Raschid?\"\n\nNo one among them dared approach and speak. All held silence. Then the\nprince, addressing the oldest minister of all, said:\n\n\"O my minister, it is you to whom, following the dictates of my heart,\nI can trust to accompany my wife and three children. For I have always\nfound you loyal and faithful to me. Beside, you are older than the\nother ministers. And you have the fear of God the most high and worthy\nof all praise as well as respect for your King.\"\n\nThe minister said: \"O my lord, it is in all sincerity that your servant\nputs above his head the commands of your Majesty. I shall do my whole\nduty in conducting the princess and her children to the King Haroun-er-\nRaschid.\"\n\nSo the King Chah Djouhou trusted his wife and his three children to\nthis perfidious minister, reposing upon the promise he had made. Forty\ncamels were laden with presents, forty nurses for the children, one\nhundred ladies in the suite of the princess, a thousand cavaliers, well\narmed and well equipped, formed the escort. The princess took leave of\nher husband. He held her clasped in his arms, and, weeping, covered her\nand his three children with kisses. He bade her to present his homage\nto her father the Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid, his salutations to her\nelder brother Minbah-Chahaz, and to place at the feet of their\nmajesties a thousand and a thousand apologies, and to make his excuses\nto her brother Minbah-Chahaz. Then the prince said to the wicked\nminister:\n\n\"O my minister, you must go now, and lead the camel of my wife, for I\nhave perfect confidence in you. Above all, guard her well.\"\n\nBut the King did not lean upon God the most high and worthy of all\npraise, and that is why God punished him.\n\nWhen the prince had finished speaking to the minister the latter said:\n\"O my lord, King of the world, your servant bears your command on his\nhead.\" So the cavalcade started on the march. Princess Djouher-Manikam\nmounted her camel with her three children. A body-guard held the van.\nShe proceeded accompanied by the wretched minister and all the escort,\nwending from day to day toward the city of Bagdad. They had reached one\nof the halting-places when day was turning into night. The minister\nthen erected a tent so that the princess might repose in it. The people\nput up their tents all about. Princess Djouher-Manikam dismounted from\nher camel and entered the tent, with her three children. The tents of\nthe nurses and ladies-in-waiting surrounded the tent of the princess in\na circle. In the middle of the night a violent rain began to fall. Then\nthe wretched minister, stirred by Satan, was stirred in his heart. He\nthought: \"The King's wife is most beautiful; beautiful, indeed, as her\nname, Djouher-Manikam. I must marry her.\"\n\nSo the rebel minister started, and entered the tent of the princess,\nand asked her to marry him. He found her seated by her three children,\noccupied in chasing away the mosquitoes. When the princess saw him\nenter her tent she asked him: \"O my minister, what brings you to my\ntent at this hour in the middle of the night?\"\n\nThe minister answered, \"I have come to beg you to marry me.\"\n\nThe princess then said: \"Is that what brings you here? And it was to\nyou that the King intrusted me on account of your great age, and as if\nyou were my father. It was in you that he put all his confidence that\nyou would take us safely, me and my children, to my venerable father,\nKing Haroun-er-Raschid. What must be your nature, that you should so\nbetray his trust?\"\n\nThe wretched minister replied: \"If you refuse to marry me, I will kill\nyour children.\"\n\n\"Never,\" said the princess, \"never shall I consent to marry you. And if\nyou kill my children, what can I do against the decree of God, save to\ninvoke his name?\"\n\nThe minister killed one of the children. When it was dead, he made the\nsame demand on the princess for the second time, and she answered:\n\"Never shall I consent to marry you.\"\n\nThe minister said: \"If you refuse, I shall kill another of your\nchildren.\"\n\nThe Princess Djouher-Manikam answered: \"If you slay my child, it is by\nthe decree of God, and I submit to his will.\"\n\nThe minister killed the second child.\n\n\"No,\" repeated the princess. \"Never shall I consent to wed you.\"\n\nThe wretched minister said: \"Then I will kill your third child.\"\n\n\"If you kill him, what can I do but to submit to the will of God, and\ninvoke his name?\" The third son of the King was killed.\n\nQuestioned anew, the princess said again, \"Never shall I marry you.\"\n\nAnd the wicked minister said: \"If you will not marry me, I will kill\nyou, too.\"\n\nThen the princess thought in her heart: \"If I do not appear to yield,\nhe will kill me, too, without a doubt. I must employ a trick.\" Then she\nsaid: \"Await me here, until I wash from my clothes and my body the\nstains of my children's blood.\"\n\nThe minister accursed of God replied: \"Very well. I await you here.\"\n\nThen the princess Djouher went out of her tent. The rain was falling in\ntorrents. The princess, fleeing precipitately, walked during the whole\nnight, not knowing where she was going. She had walked many hours when\nday broke. The princess arrived thus near a tree in the midst of the\nplain, and, having measured its height with her eyes, she climbed into\nit. At this moment there passed along the road a merchant who had made\nhis sales and was returning to the city of Bassrah. His name was\nBiyapri. Passing beneath the tree he raised his eyes and beheld a woman\nseated in the tree.\n\n\"Who are you?\" he said; \"are you woman or djinn?\"\n\n\"I am neither demon nor djinn, but a descendant of the prophet of God\n(may blessings rest upon him), a disciple of the prophet Mahomet, envoy\nof God.\"\n\nBiyapri climbed up the tree, put her on his camel, and taking up his\njourney conducted her to the country of Bassrah. Arriving at his house\nhe desired to marry her. But she put him off saying: \"Wait, for I have\nmade a solemn vow before God not to look upon the face of a man for\nforty days. When the time expires, that will be possible. But if these\nforty days have not yet run I should surely die.\" So Biyapri installed\nher on his latticed roof and lavished attention and care upon her.\n\nImmediately after the flight of the princess Djouher-Mani-kam the\nminister commanded the whole escort to return and present itself to the\nKing Chah Djouhou. He said to his people: \"O all your servants of the\nQueen, see what has been her conduct. Her three children are dead, and\nit is she who killed them. After that she disappeared. Where has she\ntaken refuge? Nobody in the world knows that. As for you, depart, bear\nthe bodies of his three children to King Chah Djouhou, and tell him all\nthe circumstances.\"\n\nArriving in the presence of the King, they reported all the\ncircumstances of the minister's treachery toward the princess, and the\nmurder of his three children. They added that the minister had\ndeparted, leaving word that he had gone to find the princess, and had\ntaken with him his own three sons, forty soldiers, and the treasure.\n\nWhen the prince had heard these words he was struck with a stupor. But\nhis sorrow at having let the princess go without him was useless. He\ncaused the three young princes to be buried. The King shed tears, and\nall the people of the household filled the air with cries and sobs, so\nthat the noise seemed like the bursts of thunder, while the funeral\nceremonies were proceeding according to the customs of the greatest\nkings. After that the King descended from his royal throne and became a\ndervish, the better to seek in all lands his well-beloved spouse. He\nhad with him three slaves only. One of them was named Hestri.\n\n\"Go,\" he said to him, \"go seek your mistress in all countries.\" And he\ngave him a horse and some provisions.\n\nHestri said: \"May your Majesty be happy! O lord, King of the world,\nwhatever be your commands, your servant places them upon his head.\"\nHestri bowed low, then mounted his horse and rode away toward the city\nof Bassrah.\n\nAfter proceeding some time he reached Bassrah, and passed by the house\nof Biyapri. At this very moment the princess Djouher-Manikam was\nsitting on the roof of Biyapri's house. She looked attentively at the\nface of Hestri as he was passing by the house and called to him saying:\n\"Hestri, what brings you here?\"\n\nHestri, casting his glance toward the roof, saw the princess Djouher-\nManikam and said to her: \"I was sent by your husband to seek you,\nprincess.\"\n\nShe replied: \"Go away, for the present. Come back when it is night. As\nit is broad daylight now I fear lest Biyapri should discover our\ndeparture.\"\n\nHestri, bowing low, replied, \"Very well, princess.\" He walked here and\nthere, waiting till night should come. When it was dark he returned to\nthe house of Biyapri and waited a few minutes. Then he called the\nprincess.\n\n\"Wait,\" she said, \"for Biyapri is still watching.\" Hestri stooped down,\nand fell asleep near Biyapri's house, having first of all tied the\nbridle of the horse to his girdle.\n\nThe princess Djouher-Manikam descended from the roof, and mounted the\nhorse while Hestri was yet sleeping. She sat on the horse waiting till\nHestri should awake. But an \u00c6thiopian robber, who had come to rob the\nstorehouse of Biyapri, saw the horse whose bridle was attached to the\nbelt of Hestri. He unfastened the bridle and led the horse to the\nmiddle of the plain. In the mind of the princess it was Hestri who was\nthus leading the horse. But the moon having risen, the \u00c6thiopian saw\nseated upon the horse a woman of a striking and marvellous beauty. The\nheart of the \u00c6thiopian was filled with joy. He said in his heart:\n\n\"For a very long time have I been stealing riches. Truly, I have\nacquired no small store of jewels, pearls, precious stones, gold and\nsilver, and magnificent vestments of all sorts. But all that is nothing\nin comparison with the marvel I have just now found and who will become\nmy wife, the light of my eyes, and the fruit of my heart. Now shall I\nenjoy in peace the happiness of having such a wife.\"\n\nThe house of the \u00c6thiopian robber was seated on the top of a hill. He\nconducted the princess thither, showed her all it contained, and gave\nit to her, saying: \"O my future bride, it is to you that all which this\nhouse contains belongs. Make use of it according to your good\npleasure.\" The princess said, \"First of all, be tranquil.\" And she\nthought in her heart: \"This is my destiny. First I was with Biyapri,\nand now I have fallen into the hands of an Aethiopian robber. It is by\nthe will of God that this has happened to his servant.\" The \u00c6thiopian\nrobber was bent on having the marriage celebrated at once, but the\nprincess said: \"I cannot be married now, for I have made a vow to God\nthe most high not to see the face of a man for three days.\"\n\nThe \u00c6thiopian robber desired to drink, and said: \"Come, let us drink\ntogether.\"\n\n\"In my opinion,\" observed the princess, \"if we begin to drink both\ntogether you will become heavy with wine, and I, too. Then they will\ntake me far from you and kill you. Come, I will fill your cup and you\nshall drink first. When you have drunk enough, then I will drink in my\nturn, and you shall fill my cup.\"\n\nThe \u00c6thiopian robber was very joyful at these words of the princess.\n\"What you say is true,\" said he. He received with great pleasure the\ncup from the hands of the princess and drank. After emptying the cup\nmany times he fell down in the stupor of intoxication, losing his\nsenses and becoming like a dead man. The princess Djouher-Manikam put\non a magnificent costume of a man, and adding a weapon something like a\n_kandjar_, went out of the house. Then mounting her horse she rode\nforward quickly and came to the foot of the hill. She directed her\ncourse toward the country of Roum, and continuing her journey from\nforest to forest, and from plain to plain, she reached the gate of the\nfortifications of the city of Roum at the moment when the King of that\ncountry had just died.\n\nWhen the princess Djouher-Manikam had arrived outside the\nfortifications of Roum, she sat down in the _baley, near the fort. She\nwas marvellously beautiful, and her vestments, all sparkling with gold,\nwere adorned with precious stones, pearls, and rubies. A man happening\nto pass by saw her, and was seized with astonishment and admiration.\nFor in the country of Roum there was nobody who could compare with this\nyoung man, so handsome and so magnificently attired. He asked:\n\n\"Whence come you and why did you come here?\"\n\nThe princess answered: \"I know not the place where I am at this moment.\nI came from the city of Damas.\"\n\nThis citizen of Roum took leave and went away to present himself to the\nvezir and tell what he had seen. The vezir, having heard him, went out\npromptly to find the young man. As soon as he had approached him and\nhad seen his remarkable beauty and his splendid vestments decorated\nwith precious stones, pearls, and rubies, the vezir seated himself by\nhim and said:\n\n\"Young man, whence do you come, and why did you come to this land?\"\n\nThe princess answered: \"I wish to travel through the world for my\npleasure. That is my will.\"\n\nThe vezir replied: \"Would you like to have us make you King of this\ncountry?\" The princess replied: \"For what reason should I wish to be\nking in this country? And by what means could it be achieved?\"\n\nThe vezir replied: \"Our King is dead.\"\n\n\"Is there no child?\" asked the princess.\n\n\"The King has left a child,\" answered the vezir, \"but he is still very\nlittle, and incapable of governing his subjects. That is why we will\nmake you King of this country.\"\n\nThe princess Djouher-Manikam answered: \"Why not? What prevents? If you\nall will follow my counsel I will accept the throne of this country.\"\n\nThe ministers said, \"And why should we not follow the commands of my\nlord?\"\n\nThe vezir conducted her to the palace. All the ministers of state and\nthe high officers assembled to proclaim as their king the princess\nDjouher-Manikam. That done, the princess took the name of Radja Chah\nDjouhou.\n\nAfter reigning some time her spirit of justice and her perfect equity\nin the government of her subjects rendered her name celebrated in all\nthe foreign countries. Radja Chah Djouhou said to her minister:\n\n\"O minister, have built for me a _baley_ outside the fort.\" And the\nministers and the officers commanded them in haste to construct the\n_baley_. As soon as it was built they came to announce it to the King.\nThe latter said:\n\n\"O my vezir, is there in my kingdom a man who knows how to paint?\"\n\n\"Yes, my lord, king of the world, there is a very skilful painter\nhere.\"\n\n\"Let him come to me.\"\n\n\"Immediately, my lord,\" said the vezir, and he ordered a slave to go\nand summon the painter. The painter came in all haste and entered the\npresence of Radja Chah Djouhou, bowing his head to the floor. The\nprince said to him:\n\n\"O painter, have you a daughter who knows how to paint?\"\n\nThe painter answered: \"Yes, my lord, king of the world, I have a\ndaughter very skilful in the art of painting.\"\n\n\"Tell your child to come here.\"\n\nThe painter bowed again and went to find his daughter. \"O my child,\" he\nsaid, \"the fruit of my heart, come, the King calls you.\"\n\nThen the painter's daughter quickly set out, accompanied by her father.\nThey together entered the presence of the King, who was still\nsurrounded by his ministers and his officers. The painter and his\ndaughter bowed their heads to the floor. The prince said:\n\n\"Painter, is this your daughter?\"\n\n\"O my lord, king of the world, yes, this is my daughter.\"\n\n\"Come with me into the interior of the palace.\" And at the same time\nthe prince started and entered his apartments, followed by the daughter\nof the painter. He led the way to a retired place, and said: \"My\ndaughter, make my portrait, I pray you, and try to have the resemblance\ngood.\" Then the princess Djouher-Manikam clothed herself in woman's\nraiment, and in this costume she was ravishingly beautiful. That done,\nshe commanded the artist to paint her thus. She succeeded perfectly and\nthe portrait was a remarkable likeness, for the daughter of the painter\nwas very skilful. When her work was finished she received a large sum\nin gold. The prince said to her:\n\n\"Come, sister, let this remain a secret. Reveal it not to anyone in the\nworld. If you tell it I will slay you, with your father and your\nmother.\"\n\nThe daughter of the painter said: \"O my lord, king of the world, how\ncould your servant disobey your Majesty's commands?\"\n\nShe bowed low, and asked permission to go home.\n\nRadja Chah Djouhou, in the presence of his ministers and his subjects,\nsaid to the vizier: \"O vizier, place this portrait in the _baley_\noutside the fort, and have it guarded by forty men. If anyone coming to\nthis portrait begins to weep or kiss it, seize him and bring him before\nme.\" The portrait hung in the _baley_, and the vezir ordered an officer\nto guard it with forty soldiers.\n\nWhen the \u00c6thiopian robber came out of his drunken slumber he saw that\nthe princess Djouher-Manikam was no longer in his house. So he went\nout-of-doors weeping, and took up his journey, going from country to\ncountry until he arrived at the city of Roum. There he saw a _baley_,\nand hanging there a portrait which bore a perfect resemblance to the\nprincess Djouher-Manikam. Quickly he climbed to the _baley_, and,\nholding the portrait in his arms, he wept and covered it with kisses.\n\n\"O unhappy man that I am! Here is the portrait of my well-beloved for\nwhom I was seeking. Where can she be?\"\n\nThe guards of the _baley_, seeing the act of the \u00c6thiopian, seized him\nand bore him before the King. They told the deed.\n\nThe prince said: \"\u00c6thiopian robber, why did you act thus in reference\nto this picture?\"\n\nThe \u00c6thiopian answered: \"O my lord, king of the world, I ask you a\nthousand and a thousand pardons. Your servant will tell the truth. If\nthey kill me I shall die; if they hang me I shall be lifted very high;\nif they sell me I shall be carried very far away. O king of the world,\nhear the words of your humble slave. A certain night I had started out\nto rob. I found a horse, and on its back there was a woman of the most\nmarvellous beauty. I took her to my house. I fell asleep in my cups. My\nbeloved one disappeared. I became mad, and so it is, O king of the\nworld, that your slave came to the fort and saw the portrait hanging at\nthe _baley_. This portrait is the faithful picture of my well-beloved.\nThat is why I weep.\"\n\nThe prince said: \"O my vezir, let this man be carefully guarded. Treat\nhim well and give him plenty to eat.\" On the other hand, Biyapri, after\nforty days, mounting the roof, saw that the princess Djouher was no\nlonger there. He became mad, abandoned his house and all his wealth,\nand, becoming a dervish, went from country to country seeking the\nprincess Djouher-Manikam, without ever finding her. Coming to the\ncountry of Roum he saw the _baley_ situated outside the fort, and\nstopped there. Then he saw the portrait, and, observing it with the\nclosest attention, he began to weep. Then he took it in his arms and\ncovered it with kisses.\n\n\"Alas, my well-beloved!\" he cried, \"here indeed is your picture, but\nwhere can I find you?\" He was immediately seized by the guard and led\nbefore the King of Roum.\n\n\"Biyapri,\" said the prince, \"whence do you come, and why did you act\nthus?\" Biyapri answered: \"O my lord, king of the world, your slave asks\npardon a thousand and a thousand times. I will tell the whole truth. If\nthey kill me, I shall die; if they hang me, I shall be lifted very\nhigh; if they sell me, I shall be taken very far away. When I was\nengaged in commerce I passed under a tree, and saw that in this tree\nthere was a woman of the most marvellous beauty. I took her and carried\nher to the city of Bassrah and installed her on the roof of my\nstorehouse. A certain night she disappeared without my knowing where\nshe had gone. Then, O king of the world, I became as one mad and left\nmy native land. Arriving at the country of Roum I saw a _baley_ outside\nthe fort and came to sit down there. Then, my lord, I saw the portrait\nhanging at the _baley_. It exactly resembles my beloved, whom I lost. I\npressed it in my arms and covered it with kisses. Such is the truth, O\nking of the world.\"\n\nThe prince then said to his minister: \"O minister, let this man be\ncarefully guarded and give him food and clothes.\"\n\nThe King of Damas, after abdicating the throne, had left his kingdom,\nand in the costume of a dervish had started to travel through the\ndifferent countries. Arriving at Roum, the King Chah Djouhou saw a\n_baley_ situated outside of the fort, and went to sit down near it. The\nprince looking closely at the portrait, which was exactly like the\nprincess Djouher-Manikam, burst into a flood of tears and exclaimed:\n\n\"Alas! Fruit of my heart, my well-beloved, light of my eyes! It is,\nindeed, your picture. But you, whom I seek, oh, where are you?\"\n\nSpeaking thus, the prince took the portrait in his arms and covered it\nwith kisses. Seeing this, the guards of the _baley_ seized him and\ncarried him before the King.\n\nThe King said to him: \"My lord, whence do you come? How have you\nwandered into this country? And why did you behave thus about my\nportrait?\"\n\nThe King Chah Djouhou answered: \"Know that my wife, who is named the\nprincess Djouher-Manikam, has disappeared far from me. It is for that\nreason that I have left my kingdom, and that I, dressed as a dervish,\nhave walked from country to country, from plain to plain, from village\nto village, seeking her whom I have never been able to find. But\narriving in your Majesty's country I saw hanging at the _baley_ that\nportrait, which is of a striking resemblance to my wife. It is for this\nreason that I wept in contemplating this picture.\"\n\nThe princess smiled, and at the same time her heart was softened at\nseeing the conduct of her husband. She said to her prime minister: \"O\nmy minister, I confide this person to your care. Treat him worthily,\ngive him the best of food and a suite of attendants. He is the King of\nDamas.\"\n\nThe minister therefore, by command of the princess, departed and\nconducted the King of Damas to a fine house, furnished and equipped\naccording to the needs of kings.\n\nThe minister took all the riches which had been intended as presents\nfor the King Haroun-er-Raschid. The ingots of gold and of silver, the\nrich garments in fine stuffs of the country of Rouzoungga, as well as\nthe vestments of the princess Djouher-Manikam and of her three\nchildren, were transported and sold in the city of Bagdad. But the King\nHaroun-er-Raschid, seeing that his name and that of his daughter, the\nprincess Djouher-Manikam, were graven on these ingots of gold and\nsilver, seized all these riches.\n\nThe minister of the country of Damas said, \"These riches are mine.\"\n\nOn his side the King Haroun-er-Raschid said: \"These riches are mine,\nfor my name and that of my child are engraved on these ingots of gold\nand silver.\"\n\nThe minister said, \"Since your Majesty declares that these treasures\nare yours, we must try this case in a court of justice.\"\n\n The King of Bagdad answered: \"It is well. We will go wherever you\nwish.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the minister; \"let us go then before the King of the\ncountry of Roum. That prince has the reputation of being extremely\njust. Each of us shall plead his cause.\"\n\nThe prince answered: \"It is well.\" The minister replied: \"O king of the\nworld, let us start without delay.\"\n\nSo the King Haroun-er-Raschid set out with his son Min-bah-Chahaz, his\nchief warrior, and his soldiers. The cadi accompanied the prince. On\nhis side, the minister of the country of Damas started, accompanied by\nhis three sons and forty soldiers of the country of Damas. After\nproceeding some time, they arrived at the city of Roum and entered the\nfortifications. Each one of them presented himself before the King and\npleaded his cause.\n\nThe King Haroun-er-Raschid expressed himself as follows: \"O king of the\nworld! I present myself before your Majesty to ask your impartial\njudgment. The minister of the country of Damas brought to Bagdad, among\nother precious objects, ingots of gold and ingots of silver, on which\nare engraved my name and that of my daughter, the princess Djouher-\nManikam. I seized these, and come to your Majesty to decide my claim to\nthem.\"\n\nThe King of Roum said: \"If it pleases God the most high, this affair\nshall be judged with the best of my powers.\" The King of Roum\ncontinued: \"My officers and you, my ministers and chiefs, seek all the\ndivine inspiration to decide the difference existing between the King\nof Bagdad and the minister of Damas.\"\n\nThe officers bowed low and said: \"O my lord, king of the world,\nwhatever they may be, we shall put the commands of your Majesty above\nour heads and shall carry them out to the letter.\" And they deliberated\non the character of the dispute.\n\nThe King of Bagdad declared: \"These objects are precious to me, for\nthey bear engraven upon them the names of myself and my child.\"\n\nOn the other hand, and at the same time, the minister Damas declared,\n\"These precious objects are mine.\"\n\nThe ministers and chiefs were very much embarrassed, and said to the\nKing: \"O king of the world, we, all of us, are unable to judge this\ndispute. It is too difficult for us. Only the impartial judgment of\nyour Majesty can decide it.\"\n\nThe prince said: \"It is well. I will pronounce sentence, if it please\nGod the most high, provided that you consent to accept it.\"\n\nThe King of Bagdad answered: \"O king of the world, judge between us\naccording to your impartial justice.\"\n\nThe King of Roum then said: \"O minister of Damas, and you, King of\nBagdad, is it the wish of both of you that I should give judgment\naccording to the judgment of God the most high?\"\n\nAnd they both answered: \"That is what we ask, the judgment of God.\"\n\nThe prince replied: \"If you consent on both sides, it is well.\"\n\n\"I consent to it,\" said the minister of Damas.\n\n\"And I, too,\" said the King of Bagdad.\n\nThe King of Roum then spoke in these terms: \"In conformity with the law\nof the most high God, I ask this question of the King of Bagdad: Have\nyou a daughter?\"\n\nThe King of Bagdad replied: \"Yes, king of the world, I have a daughter\nand a son.\"\n\n\"And have you at present these two children?\"\n\nThe King of Bagdad answered: \"I have my son, but my daughter--I lost\nher.\"\n\nThe King of Roum, continuing, said: \"What is the cause of the loss of\nyour daughter?\" The King of Bagdad answered: \"O king of the world, hear\nmy story. While I was gone on a pilgrimage with my wife and my son,\nwhose name is Minbah-Chahaz, I left my daughter to watch over my\npalace. Arriving at the end of my pilgrimage, I sent home a letter to\nthe cadi, conceived as follows: 'May peace be with the cadi: I shall\nwait still for the grand pilgrimage about a year longer. As for all\nthat concerns my kingdom, my palace, and my daughter, the princess\nDjouher-Manikam, watch with greatest care, and beware of any negligence\nin the protection of my kingdom and my child.' Some time later the cadi\nsent me a letter at Mecca, couched in these words: 'O king of the\nworld, your servant has received the command to watch over the palace\nand the princess. But the princess now desires to marry me.' After I\nhad read the letter from the cadi I called my son Minbah-Chahaz, and\nsaid to him: 'Start at once for Bagdad, and slay your sister.' My son\nMinbah-Chahaz started immediately for Bagdad, and killed his sister.\nThen he returned and found me at Mecca. His cutlass was still blood-\nstained. Then I cried: 'Praise be to God the Lord of the universe, our\nshame is effaced.' Such is my story, O king of the world.\"\n\nThe King of Roum said: \"It is well. Now I shall pronounce judgment.\"\nAnd addressing the minister of Damas he said to him: \"O minister of\nDamas, tell me the truth if you wish that at the day of judgment the\nprophet should intercede for you (may the peace and blessings of God be\nupon him!). Speak and tell the truth. Say whence come these riches, in\norder that I may pronounce my judgment between you.\"\n\nThe minister of the King of Damas said: \"O my lord, king of the world,\nI will lay at the foot of your Majesty's throne the completed story\nfrom the beginning. I received a mission from the King Chah Djouhou: 'O\nmy minister,' he said, 'start, I send you to the city of Bagdad, taking\nmy three children to their grandfather, and my wife, the princess\nDjouher-Manikam, to her mother and her father, the King Haroun-er-\nRaschid.' I set out, therefore, with the escort which accompanied the\nprincess Djouher-Manikam, and we arrived at our first halting-place.\nWhen it was night I erected a tent, and the people of the escort all\nput up tents around that of the princess. But Satan breathed into my\nheart a temptation. This thought came to me: 'The wife of the King is\nwonderfully beautiful, and she has such a pretty name! I will go and\nask her to marry me.' So I entered her tent. At that moment she was\nseated by her sleeping children, occupied in keeping away the\nmosquitoes. The princess demanded, 'O my minister, why do you come\nhere?' And I answered, 'I have come to ask you to marry me.' The\nprincess said: 'Have you no fear of God the most high? No, I cannot\nmarry you. What would become of me if I should do such a thing?' Then I\nsaid, 'If you will not agree to marry me, I will kill one of your\nchildren.' The princess answered: 'If you kill my child it will be by\nthe judgment of God, and what can I do but to invoke his name?' Then I\nkilled one of the children. When he was dead I asked again if she would\nmarry me, and I killed another of the children. When this one was dead\nI asked the same question. The princess answered, 'I cannot marry when\nI am already married.' I said to her, 'If you will not, then I will\nkill the third of your children.' The princess Djouher-Manikam\nanswered, 'If you kill my third child, it will be by the judgment of\nGod, and what can I do but invoke his name, for I am only a woman?' So\nI killed the third child. After the death of this last child of the\nKing, I put again my question to the princess. She would not consent to\nmarry me. I said to her, 'If you don't, I will kill you.' She answered:\n'If you kill me, it is the decree of God. But wait awhile, for I wish\nto wash my garments and cleanse the traces of my children's blood from\nmy body.' I said, 'It is well. We will have the wedding-feast to-\nmorrow.' She left the tent. It was raining in torrents. I could not\ndiscover where she went. Such is my story, O king of the world.\"\n\nThe King said, \"Minister of the country of Damas, have you any sons?\"\n\nHe answered, \"Yes, my lord, king of the world, I have three sons.\"\n\nThe prince said: \"Let your three sons come here, in order that I may\ngive judgment quickly, according to the law instituted by the prophet\n(may the peace and blessings of God be upon him!). Behold what his law\nprescribes: The minister killed the children of the princess Djouher-\nManikam. It is not, therefore, the minister who should be punished with\ndeath, but his children should be slain. The execution of this judgment\nwill be the just application of the law of retaliation between the\nminister and the princess.\"\n\nThe minister summoned his three sons. As soon as they had come, he\npointed them to the King of Roum.\n\nThe latter said to his minister, \"O minister, where is the \u00c6thiopian\nwhom they brought here?\" The \u00c6thiopian robber was brought out, and\nprostrated himself before the King of Roum.\n\nThe King of Roum said to him: \"\u00c6thiopian, return to your own country\nand change your mode of life. You will never see again the woman for\nwhom you are seeking.\" And the prince gave him a _keti_ of gold.\n\nThen the prince said: \"O my minister, where is Biyapri? Let them bring\nhim here.\" So they brought Biyapri. When he arrived he bowed low before\nthe prince.\n\nThe prince said: \"Biyapri, go back to your own country and change your\nconduct. The woman whom you seek you will never see again.\" And the\nprince made him a gift of two _keti_ of gold.\n\nThe King of Roum then said: \"Let all assemble. I am about to pronounce\njudgment between the King of Bagdad and the minister of Damas.\" The\nminister and the officers assembled therefore in the presence of the\nKing, together with many of his subjects.\n\nThe King of Roum said: \"O my executioner, let the three children of the\nminister of Damas be all killed; such is the divine command.\" So the\nchildren of the minister of Damas were all three killed.\n\nAfter they were dead the prince said: \"Minister, return to the country\nof Damas, with a rag for your girdle, and during your last days change\nyour conduct. If you do not know it, I am the princess Djouher-Manikam,\ndaughter of the Sultan of Bagdad, wife of Chah Djouhou, my lord, and\nthe sister of Minbah-Chahaz. God has stricken your eyes with blindness\non account of your crimes toward me. It is the same with the cadi of\nthe city of Bagdad.\"\n\nThe minister of Damas, seized with fear, trembled in all his limbs. He\ncast himself at the feet of the princess Manikam, and thus prostrated\nhe implored pardon a thousand and a thousand times. Then he returned to\nDamas all in tears, and overwhelmed with grief at the death of his\nthree sons. The cadi, covered with shame on account of his treachery to\nthe Sultan of Bagdad, fled and expatriated himself.\n\nThe King of Roum commanded them to bring the King Chah Djouhou and give\nhim a garment all sparkling with gold, and he sent him to dwell in the\ncompany of his father-in-law, the Sultan of Bagdad, and his brother-in-\nlaw, the prince Minbah-Chahaz.\n\nThen the princess Djouher-Manikam retired. She entered the palace and\nreturned clad in the garments of a woman. She then went out,\naccompanied by ladies of the court, and went to present herself to her\nfather, the Sultan of Bagdad. She bowed before her father, her brother\nthe prince Minbah-Chahaz, and her husband, the King Chah Djouhou. The\nprincess said: \"O all of you, lords and warriors of the country of\nRoum, know that I am a woman, and not a man. Behold my father, the\nSultan Haroun-er-Raschid, King of Bagdad. Behold my brother, whose name\nis Minbah-Chahaz; and behold my husband, the King Chah Djouhou, who\nreigns over the country of Damas. From the time when you placed me upon\nthe throne of Roum, if I have committed any fault by error or by\nignorance, you must excuse me, for constantly the servants of God\ncommit faults by error or ignorance. It is only God alone who forgets\nnot, nor neglects, and is free from error or ignorance.\"\n\nThe grandees of the country of Roum said: \"Never has your Majesty\ncommitted the least fault, either by ignorance or by error, during the\ntime you have reigned over the country of Roum. Nevertheless, among the\njudgments just now rendered there was a fault committed by your\nglorious Majesty. The minister killed, the princess killed, both did it\nvoluntarily. It was a fault of judgment for the princess Djouher-\nManikam to have killed the children of the minister, just as the\nminister committed a fault in killing the children of the princess.\nThere was a likeness there. Still, if it pleases her Majesty to remain\nupon the throne of Roum, we should all be very glad of it.\"\n\nThe princess Djouher said: \"I shall take leave of you, my lords. It is\ngood that we should make the young prince king, and that he should\nreplace me on the throne.\"\n\nThe ministers and the officers of Roum responded, \"Whatever be the\ncommands of your Majesty, we place them above our heads.\"\n\nThen the princess made the royal prince her successor, and the\nministers and officers and subjects all bowed low, placed their hands\nabove their heads, and proclaimed him King.\n\nThe princess Djouher-Manikam said: \"O my child, here are the last\ninstructions your mother gives you: You must practise justice so that\nGod will make strong your realm. To you, my ministers and officers, I\nconfide my child. If he commits some faults by negligence or by\nignorance, I pray you take them not too much to heart, for my child is\nyoung, and he has not yet attained all the maturity of his judgment.\"\n\nThe ministers and officers answered: \"O your Majesty, may your\nprosperity grow forever! How could it be possible for us to disobey\nyour commands?\"\n\nThe princess replied: \"O my child, above all must you observe justice\nand be patient and liberal toward your ministers and officers and all\nyour subjects, so that the favors of God may increase upon your person\nand that your kingdom may be protected by God the most high by the\ngrace of the intercession of the prophet Mahomet, the envoy of God (may\nthe, peace and blessings of God be with him!). O my child, you must\ngovern all your subjects with a spirit of justice, for in this world,\nuntil death, we ought to seek the truth. O my child, above all forget\nnot my last instructions.\" Then, taking in her arms the royal child,\nshe kissed him.\n\nThe Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid having told the Sultan of Roum that he\nwished to return to the country of Bagdad, the Sultan gave orders to\nhis ministers to assemble the grandees, the officers, and the soldiers,\nwith elephants, horses, and instruments of music. All came with\npresents, for the Sultan of Roum wished to accompany the Sultan Haroun-\ner-Raschid as far as Bagdad and carry him the presents. The favorable\nmoment having arrived, the Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid departed from Roum,\ndirecting his way to the country of Bagdad, from plain to plain, and\nfrom halting-place to halting-place. After journeying some time, they\nrejoicing all the way, they arrived at the country of Bagdad.\n\nThe ministers, the chiefs, and the soldiers came out to meet the Sultan\nHaroun-er-Raschid, and they entered the palace. Then the Queen hastened\nto find the Sultan and her daughter, the princess Djouher-Manikam.\nMeeting her daughter, she pressed her in her arms and covered her with\nkisses. She said in tears: \"Alas, my child! the fruit of my heart! I,\nyour mother thought that she would never see you again.\" And she\ncovered her body with tears and kisses, while she kept repeating,\n\"Alas, my child! I thought you lost forever.\" Then the Queen bowed\nbefore the Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid. Her son, Minbah-Chahaz, then came\nto bow before his mother, but the latter pressed him in her arms and\nkissed him. Then her son-in-law, King Chah Djouhou, advanced and bowed\nbefore the Queen in his turn. And she pressed him in her arms and\nkissed him. All were in tears.\n\nThe Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid started for the hall of audience, and gave\norders to one of his heralds to assemble his ministers, his warriors,\nand his subjects. When they were all gathered together the Sultan said:\n\"Now I wish to entertain the ministers, the chiefs, and the officers\nwho escorted us here.\" When the Sultan had finished entertaining them\nthey desired to take leave and return to the country of Roum. The\nSultan Haroun-er-Raschid made them gifts of vestments of honor, to each\naccording to his rank. They prostrated themselves at his feet, and then\nreturned in peace to the country of Roum.\n\nAfterward, the Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid ordered one of his heralds to\nassemble his ministers, his officers, and his subjects. Once gathered\ntogether, the prince said: \"O all of you, my ministers and my officers,\nyou must build me a house of baths seven stories high, on the public\nsquare of Bagdad.\"\n\nAll responded, \"O my lord, king of the world, whatever your commands\nmay be, your servants place them above their heads.\" And all,\nministers, officers, and subjects, gave themselves to the work, each of\nthem doing what was directed by the architect. After some time, the\npalace of baths was finished. It was sumptuously adorned with curtains\nof silk, canopies, tapestries woven with gold and fringed with pearls.\nRugs embroidered with gold were stretched on the different floors, and\nthere was a quantity of torches and lanterns.\n\nThen the builders came before the King and said: \"O my lord, king of\nthe world, your slaves have finished their work according to the\ncommands of your Majesty.\"\n\nThe King Haroun-er-Raschid gave thanks unto God the most high, worthy\nof all praise, the true Lord who accords to his servants all their\nneeds.\n\nThen the festivals began. For forty days and forty nights the bands\nnever stopped playing. There were sports, banquets, amusements of all\nsorts. They gave themselves noisily to pleasure, because the Sultan was\ngoing to proceed to the ceremony of the bath of the two spouses, his\nchildren. When the watches were finished and the favorable moment had\ncome, the Sultan was arrayed in a magnificent garment embroidered with\ngold, while the princess Djouher-Manikam was adorned by her mother with\nsuperb veils and vestments trimmed with jewels, with pearls and\nprecious stones of an incomparable richness. The spouses thus adorned,\nthe Sultan made them mount a palanquin. His son, Minbah-Cha-haz, was\nclad in a splendid costume.\n\nThe Sultan mounted his horse Sembaran, and his saddle was of carved\ngold. Surrounded by young princes and lords, by officers of his court\nand the standards, Haroun-er-Raschid marched at the head. He advanced,\nfollowed by princes, ministers, and officers. The wives of the grandees\naccompanied the Queen with her maids-of-honor, and all the musical\ninstruments gave forth their harmonious sounds. Seven times they made\nthe circuit of the city. When the two spouses had arrived at the foot\nof the Palace of Baths the Sultan made them ascend. Then came the\nspouses of the grandees with the Queen, who showered them with rice-\npowder mixed with amber and musk, and poured on their heads spikenard\nand _curcuma_ (turmeric). They were both plunged into a bath of rose-\nwater and extracts of all sorts of aromatic flowers, together with\nwater from the sacred fountain of Zemzem.\n\nThe ceremonies of the bath finished, the two spouses went out of the\nPalace of Baths and went into the King's palace. On their arrival, they\nserved a repast to the princes, the _orilemas_, the doctors of the law,\nthe priests, the ministers, the officers, the common people, men and\nwomen. All without exception took part in the feast. When it was ended\none of the doctors of the law recited the prayer asking God for perfect\nhappiness, sheltered from all danger in this life and the next. Then he\nsprinkled showers of the most charming perfumes.\n\nAfter that the Chah Djouhou went to find the Sultan, and said to him:\n\"O my lord, king of the world, I have to ask your Majesty a favor and\npardon. I wish to take leave of your Majesty and return to the country\nof Damas, for the country of Damas is forsaken, O my lord.\"\n\nThe Sultan said, \"It is well, my lord. Your country, truly, is\nseparated from its King. If it were not for your kingdom I would wish\nnever to be separated from you, now that I have my daughter back again.\nBut if I am inclined to commit a fault, do not comply with it.\"\n\nRadja Chah Djouhou answered; \"Your daughter is like a soul which has\nentered my body. That is how I feel. But the countless favors of your\nMajesty to me, I place them above my head.\"\n\nThe Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid then said to his prime minister: \"O my\nminister, get ready to start 3,000 soldiers and 300 horsemen. And have\nelephants or horses well equipped to transport my two children, husband\nand wife.\" When the escort was ready, then the Sultan commanded them to\nopen the place where his treasures were stored, and forty-four camels\nwere laden with riches, with vestments of woven gold and precious\nobjects such as are found only in the palaces of kings.\n\nAll these preparations being finished, Radja Chah Djouhou took leave of\nhis father-in-law, his mother-in-law, and his brother-in-law, Minbah-\nChahaz. The latter all held in their arms and covered with kisses the\nprincess Djouher-Manikam, as well as Radja Chah Djouhou. He and his\nbrother-in-law Minbah-Chahaz wept as they embraced, and the people of\nthe palace burst into sobs with a noise like that of the waves breaking\non the seashore. Finally the princess Djouher and the King Chah\nDjouhou, after bowing before their father, mother, and brother, set out\nfor the country of Damas, to the imposing sound of all the instruments\nof music. The Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid and his son, Minbah-Chahaz,\nconducted them outside of the fortifications. When they were far off,\nthe Sultan went back to his palace, walking sadly with his son, Minbah-\nChahaz, and praying God to bless his children.\n\nAfter some time on the journey, the King Chah Djouhou arrived at the\ncountry of Damas. The officers and the soldiers sallied from the\nfortifications of Damas and went to meet the prince. The ministers and\nthe officers bowed low at his feet, all rejoicing over the happy return\nand perfect health of the King and Queen. The prince entered his\npalace, and the two spouses lived full of tenderness for each other.\n\nI will not prolong this story of the princess Djouher-Manikam, which\nhas become celebrated in all countries to windward and to leeward. I\nclose it here, giving my best wishes to those who shall read or hear\nit, and particularly to those who shall copy it!\n\n\n\n\nMAKOTA RADJA-RADJA;\n\nOR,\n\nTHE CROWN OF KINGS\n\n[_Translated by Aristide Marre and C. C. Starkweather_]\n\n\nKings who are of the true faith, who have wisdom and follow justice,\ncause men worthy of their confidence to travel through their kingdom,\nto serve as their eyes and ears, and to make reports on the state and\ncondition of their subjects, so that, knowing the cause, they may\nexamine for themselves the conduct of the servants of God. But there\nare kings who do not rest contented with the report of their servants,\nand go themselves by night to see the condition and hear the complaints\nof subjects. Then they make by day a thorough examination of the\nmatters thus come to their knowledge, in order to regulate them with\njustice and equity.\n\nA story will illustrate this. Zeyd Ibries Selam tells what follows: The\nprince of the believers, the Caliph Omar (may God be satisfied with\nhim!), judged the servants of God with equity during the day, and after\npronouncing his judgments he went out of the city on the side toward\nthe cemetery called Bakia-el-Gharkada. There he cut stone to gain money\nenough for the maintenance of his house, and when night had come he\nwent through the city to know the good and evil of the servants of God.\nOne night, says Zeyd Ibries Selam, \"I accompanied the prince of the\nbelievers, Omar. When he was outside of Medina, he perceived a fire in\nan out-of-the-way place, and turned his steps thither. Scarcely had he\narrived when he heard a woman with three children, and the latter were\ncrying. The woman said: 'O God the most high, I beseech thee, make Omar\nsuffer what I am suffering now. He sleeps satiated with food, while I\nand my children are starving.' The prince of the believers, Omar,\nhearing these words, went to the woman, and with a salutation said,\n'May I approach?'\n\n\"The woman answered, 'If it be by way of goodness, come.'\n\n\"He approached her and questioned her about her situation.\n\n\"The woman said: 'I come from a far place; and as it was dark when I\narrived here, I could not enter the city. So I stopped at this place.\nMy children and I are suffering from hunger and we cannot sleep.'\n\n\"The Caliph inquired, 'What is there in this kettle?'\n\n\"The woman answered: 'Nothing but water. I put it in the kettle so that\nthe children should imagine that I was cooking rice--perhaps, then,\nthey would go to sleep and stop crying so loudly.'\n\n\"As soon as Omar had heard these words he returned promptly to the city\nof Medina. Arriving at a shop where they sold flour, he bought some and\nput it into a sack. In another shop he bought some meat. Then lifting\nthe sack to his shoulders he carried it out of the city. I said to him:\n\n\"'O prince of the believers, give me this sack, that I may carry it for\nyou.'\n\n\"'If you bear the weight of this sack,' said his glorious Majesty to\nme, 'who will bear the weight of my fault, and who will clear me from\nthe prayer of this woman in the affliction of her heart when she\ncomplained to the Lord of my negligence?'\n\n\"Omar, having said these words, continued to walk in tears until he had\ncome near the woman and her children. Then he gave her the flour and\nthe meat, and they ate till their hunger was appeased. The woman with a\nsatisfied heart cried:\n\n\"'May God the most high hear my prayer and render you benefits, since\nyou are so full of compassion for the servants of God and are so much\nbetter than Omar.'\n\n\"The Caliph said to her, 'O woman, blame not Omar, for he knew not how\nyou fared.'\"\n\nThere was once a king in the country of Syria named Malik-es-Saleh,\nvery pious and just, and continually preoccupied with the state of his\nsubjects. They say that every night he went to the mosque, cemeteries,\nand other solitary places, in search of strangers, fakirs, and poor\npeople who had neither home nor family. One night, arriving near a\nmosque, he heard the voice of a man inside the edifice. He entered and\nsaw a fakir there. He could not see him distinctly, because he was\ncovered with a mat. But he heard him, and this is what he said: \"O\nLord, if on the judgment-day thou shalt give a place in heaven to kings\nwho are forgetful of the fakirs and the poor, then, O Lord, grant that\nI may not enter there.\"\n\nMalik-es-Saleh, hearing these words, shed tears. He placed a piece of\nstuff before the fakir with 100 tahil of silver, and said to him:\n\n\"O fakir, I have learned from the glorious prophet (may peace be with\nhim!) that fakirs become kings in heaven, after a life of self-\nsacrifice on earth. Since I am King in this perishable world, I come to\nyou with the weakness of my nature and baseness of my being. I ask you\nto be at peace with me, and to show yourself compassionate to me when\nthe moment of your glory in heaven shall have arrived.\"\n\nWhen the Sultan Zayad sat upon the royal throne of Ikak, the country\nwas infested with malefactors, brigands, robbers, assassins, and the\nlike. The compounds were destroyed, the houses pillaged, and the people\nkilled. The inhabitants could not sleep a single night in quiet, nor\npass a single day in safety at home. A crowd of people came with their\ncomplaints to the Sultan Zayad, saying:\n\n\"The compounds are destroyed, the houses are pillaged, and the men are\nkilled.\" All throughout Irak one heard nothing but reports of this\nkind.\n\nOne Friday the Sultan went to the mosque to pray. He then shut all the\ndoors and said to the people in the mosque: \"O servants of God now\npresent in this mosque, know that a duty is imposed upon me. I must\nprotect my subjects, for I shall have to give an account of my actions\non the day of judgment. There are now in this country large numbers of\nmalefactors, and many of my people have been ruined by them. It is my\nduty to repress these disorders. So, then, listen to what I have to\nsay, and repeat it to those who are not present. I swear to you that\nall who shall, three days from now, leave his house after the hour of\nevening prayer, shall be put to death.\"\n\nWhen the three days had passed and the fourth night arrived, Sultan\nZayad mounted his horse and traversed the city with an escort of\ncavaliers. Outside of the city he came to a place and saw a man\nstanding under a tree in the middle of a flock of sheep and goats. He\nsaid to him, \"Who are you?\"\n\nThe man said: \"I come from a far-off village, and I am bringing sheep\nand goats to the city to sell them, and with their price to buy what I\ncan for my wife and children. When arrived at this place I was so tired\nthat I could not enter the city, and was obliged to stay here, with the\nintention of entering at daybreak and selling my sheep and goats.\"\n\nSultan Zayad, having heard this response, said: \"Your words are true,\nbut what can I do? If I do not put you to death to-morrow, when the\nnews spreads, they will say Sultan Zayad is not faithful to his word.\nThey will regard me with disdain, and no one will obey my orders. And\nthe wicked ones will commit violent acts upon the good ones, and my\ncountry will be ruined. Heaven is better for you than this world.\" So\nhe had him put to death and ordered that they should take his head.\n\nDuring that same night all that he met were killed and beheaded. They\nsay that in the course of that first day 500 persons were put to death.\nAt dawn he had all these heads exposed on the highways, and published\nthis proclamation:\n\n\"Whosoever shall not obey the commands of Sultan Zayad shall suffer the\nsame fate.\"\n\nWhen the people of the country saw these heads exposed at all sides on\nthe earth, they were frightened, and a respectful fear of Sultan Zayad\nfilled all hearts.\n\nThe second night Sultan Zayad went out again from the city, and that\nnight 500 persons were killed.\n\nThe third night he remained out of the city till morning, but he did\nnot meet a soul.\n\nThe following Friday Sultan Zayad went to the mosque, said his prayers,\nand declared: \"O servants of God, let no one after to-day shut the door\nof his house nor his shop. I take upon myself the charge of replacing\nthose of your goods which shall be destroyed or stolen.\"\n\nThey all obeyed his orders, for they feared him greatly. Their doors\nremained opened for several nights, and they never suffered the\nslightest loss. But after a while a man complained to the Sultan,\nsaying, \"Last night someone stole from me 400 tahil.\"\n\nThe Sultan said: \"Can you swear to it?\"\n\nThe man swore to the facts, and the Sultan had 400 tahil counted out to\nhim in place of those he had lost. The following Friday, after prayers,\nforbidding anyone to leave the mosque, the Sultan said: \"O servants of\nthe Lord, know that 400 tahil have been stolen from the shop of a\ncertain man. Unless you denounce the robber, not one of you shall\nescape, but to-day shall all of you be put to death.\"\n\nNow, as he had rigorously commanded attendance at Friday's prayer\nservice, the whole town had come to the mosque. They were seized with\nfright, for they knew that the Sultan kept his word, and they denounced\nthe robber. The latter gave back the 400 tahil and received his\npunishment.\n\nA long time afterward the Sultan Zayad asked, \"At what place in my\nkingdom do they fear robbers most of all?\"\n\n\"In the Valley of the Beni Ardou, in the country of Bassrah, for there\nthey are numerous.\"\n\nSultan Zayad one day had the highways and paths of the valley strewn\nwith gold and silver, precious stones, and stuffs of great price. All\nthese things lay there a long time and not one was taken. Then the\nSultan ordered them to take up these riches and give them to the fakirs\nand the poor. Then he rendered thanks unto God that he had thus\nsecurely established his law among his subjects.\n\nNow it was in the times when Nouchirvau governed with justice and\nequity, protecting his subjects and causing his kingdom to prosper. One\nday he asked the grandees of his court, \"Are there in my kingdom any\nplaces deserted and without inhabitants?\"\n\nThe grandees who were there answered, \"O king of the world, we know not\nin all your Majesty's realm a place which is not inhabited.\"\n\nNouchirvau kept silence, and for many days did not leave the palace. He\nsummoned to his private chamber a learned doctor named Bouzor Djambour,\nand said to him:\n\n\"I desire to know with certainty if all parts of my realm are peopled,\nor if there is any which is not. How can I be sure of this?\"\n\n\"To have your Majesty's desire fully satisfied you have only to abstain\nfrom leaving the palace.\"\n\nSaying this, Bouzor Djambour took leave of the King and went to the\naudience-chamber of the King. He spoke to those assembled there as\nfollows: \"O ministers, generals, and all present, know that his Majesty\nis ill. Now, in order to cure him you must find for me a little bit of\nearth from a place in ruins and uninhabited. Those who are faithful\nservants of the King will not hesitate to accomplish immediately this\nact of devotion in his service, and to start at once in search of the\nremedy I have named.\"\n\nThese words were scarcely uttered when men were sent out to search the\ntowns and villages and find some earth from a place in ruins and\nuninhabited. They found only one house in ruins, and the governor of\nthe town said as follows about it: \"A merchant once established in this\ndwelling. He died and left much wealth. As none of his heirs came\nforward, we closed the doors with stones and mortar, waiting for them\nto arrive. So the house has fallen to ruin.\"\n\nThen the people took a little earth from beneath the house and took it\nto the King, telling him what had happened. Then the King called an\nassembly and said:\n\n\"Know all that my illness proceeded only from my fear that there might\nbe in my kingdom a house in ruins. Now that it has been shown to me\nthat there exists in my whole realm not a single place in ruins, but\nthat the country is well populated, my malady is cured, seeing that my\nkingdom is in a perfect condition.\"\n\nIn the time of Nouchirvau a man sold his compound to another man. The\nbuyer of this property, while engaged in making repairs, found in the\nearth many jars filled with gold which someone had buried there. He\nwent immediately to the one who sold him the premises and told him the\nnews. The seller said:\n\n\"That gold is not mine, for I did not put it in the ground. I sold you\nthe compound; the discovery that you have made is yours.\"\n\nThe buyer replied: \"I bought the premises alone, I did not buy gold;\nso it is yours.\" As each refused to take the treasure, they went to the\nKing Nouchirvau and recounted the affair to him, saying, \"This gold\nshould be the property of the King.\" But King Nouchirvau would not take\nthe gold. He asked the two men if they had children. They replied,\n\"Yes, my lord, we have each a child, a boy and a girl.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the King, \"marry the girl to the boy, and give them the\ngold you found.\"\n\nIn ancient times a King of China fell ill and as a result of his malady\nhe lost his hearing. He wept in sorrow over this affliction and grew\nvery thin and pale. His ministers came one day and asked him to tell\nthem in writing his condition. He answered: \"I am not ill, but so\nweakened by my inquietude and distress that I can no longer hear the\nwords of my subjects when they come to make their complaints. I know\nnot how to act not to be guilty of negligence in the government of my\nkingdom.\"\n\nThe ministers then said: \"If the ears of your Majesty do not hear, our\nears shall replace those of the King, and we can carry to his Majesty\nthe complaints and regrets of his subjects. Why, then, should his\nMajesty be so much disturbed over the weakening of his physical\nforces?\"\n\nThe King of China answered: \"At the day of judgment it is I, and not my\nministers, who will have to render account of the affairs of my\nsubjects. I must therefore myself examine into their complaints and\ntroubles. I am sure that the burden of ruling would be lighter for me\nif I could have tranquillity of spirit. But my eyes can see, although\nmy ears are deaf.\"\n\nAnd he commanded them to publish this edict: \"All who are victims of\ninjustice must reduce their complaints to writing, and bring them to\nthe King so that he may look into their troubles.\"\n\nThey tell also the following story: There was formerly in the city of\nIspahan, a king whose power and glory had filled him with pride. He\ncommanded his ministers to build him a palace in a certain place. The\nministers, with the architects, ordered the slaves to level the ground\nso as to form a vast esplanade and cause to disappear all the houses of\nthe neighborhood. Among these houses, they say, there was one belonging\nto an old woman who was very poor and without a family to help her. In\nspite of her great age, she went to work as well as she could, in\ndifferent places, but could scarcely exist on her earnings. Her house\nnear the site selected for the new palace was old and in a tumble-down\ncondition. They tell that one day having gone a long distance to find\nwork she fell ill and remained a long time without being able to return\nto her house. Then the architects who were building the palace said,\n\"We must not let this hovel remain standing so near the King's palace.\"\nSo they razed the hut and levelled the earth, and finished the palace\nwith all sorts of embellishments. The King, taking possession, gave a\ngrand house-warming festival.\n\nNow on this very day it so happened that the old woman returned home.\nArriving she could find no traces of her house, and was stupefied. In\none hand she held a stick, in the other some dry wood for her fire. On\nher back she bore a package of rice and herbs for cooking. She was\nfatigued with a long journey and faint with hunger. When she saw that\nher house had disappeared she knew not what to do nor where to go. She\nburst into tears. The servants of the King drove her away, and as she\nwent, she fell and spilled her rice and herbs and fell down in the mud.\nIn this state of indescribable desolation she exclaimed, \"O Lord,\navenge me on these tyrants!\"\n\nThe old woman had hardly ceased speaking when the voice of some unseen\nbeing was heard above her saying, \"O woman, fly quickly from this spot,\nfor the anger of God is advancing upon the King.\" In horror she got up\nand fled in all haste. Again she heard the voice saying, \"O woman, look\nbehind you at the palace.\" She looked behind her and saw the palace,\nthe King, and all his ministers and servants engulfed in the bowels of\nthe earth by the will of God. And to this day that place vomits fire\nand smoke as a mark and a warning.\n\nIn the Kitab Tarykh it is told that in ancient times under the kings of\nPersia named Moah, who followed the rules of justice, men were happy.\nBut after these kings, Izdegherd-ibn-Chahryar reigned over Persia. By\nhis harsh tyranny he destroyed the high reputation of the kings of\nPersia and wretchedly closed a series of reigns lasting 4,000 years and\nnoted all over the world for justice and equity. Under the rule of this\nmiserable tyrant countless numbers of men perished and a great many\nprosperous and famous cities were devastated. All the better classes of\ncitizens were plunged into the most frightful distress and the most\nlamentable desolation, and it would be impossible to tell how great and\nwide-spread was the mourning. Now while all were groaning in affliction\nthe King made merry.\n\nOne day in his presumptuous pride he assembled his ministers and his\ngenerals to show his royal power and his domination over the people. He\nwas seated on his throne, surrounded by a crowd of courtiers, when\nsuddenly a beautiful horse crossing the city at a gallop went straight\ninto the palace of the King, among the ministers and the grandees. They\nall admired the beautiful horse, the like of which none had ever seen.\nNobody dared to seize him as he pranced from right to left. Suddenly\nthe horse approached the throne and laid down at the feet of the King.\nThe King patted and stroked him, and the horse never moved. Then the\nwicked King began to laugh and said: \"O my ministers, you see how far\nmy greatness goes. It is only at my throne that this wonderful horse\nhas stopped. I will mount and ride him on the esplanade.\" The King\nordered a saddle brought, and was placing it on the horse with his own\nhands, when he received such a kick over the heart that he was\nimmediately killed. Then the wonderful horse vanished, and no one saw\nwhere it went. The people all rejoiced and said, \"Of a truth, this\nmysterious horse was one of the angels of God sent to exterminate a\ntyrant.\"\n\nIt was in the time of this King, and by his tyranny, that the kingdom\nof the sovereign of Persia was ruled and fell into the hands of another\npeople. King Khochtacab, the most celebrated of all the kings of his\ntime, by his power, greatness, and magnificence, had raised in rank a\nman named Rassat Rouchin, a name which in Persia signifies \"sincere and\nbrilliant.\" Influenced by this fine name, the King forgot all prudence,\nand without any proof of his capacity he raised this man to power and\nmade him minister, turning over to him the care of the most important\naffairs in his kingdom and giving him all his confidence. His\nostensible conduct was irreproachable, and his acts had for everybody\nthe appearance of honesty and truth. One day the minister Rassat\nRouchin said to the King: \"The people, on account of our leniency and\ngoodness, are forgetting their duty, and are showing no more deference\nnor respect We must inspire them with fear, or affairs will not\nprosper.\"\n\nThe King in his blind confidence responded, \"Do whatever you think is\nright.\" As soon as the minister had come from the palace of the King he\naddressed a proclamation to the towns and villages in which he said:\n\"His Majesty is irritated with his subjects. You must all come with\npresents to appease his anger.\" From all sides arrived princes and\nministers and grandees of the realm, with precious and magnificent\nobjects. Seized with fear they sought counsel of the minister Rassat\nRouchin.\n\n\"How,\" said they, \"dare we present ourselves before his Majesty in his\npresent state of anger against us?\"\n\nThen the minister responded: \"If the instant of death is not yet come\nfor you, I will try to save you. I tremble to admit you to the King.\nBut what can I do? On account of the critical situation I will go alone\nbefore the King and present your case.\" So every day he conducted them\nonly as far as the door of the King. There they were told of the fines\nto which they had been condemned. He took in this way what they had,\nand sent them home.\n\nThis sort of thing continued for a long while until the means of the\npeople were exhausted and the treasury became absolutely empty. The\nKing, always full of confidence in the uprightness of the minister, was\nin complete ignorance of all this. But at that time there was a king\nwho was an enemy of King Khochtacab. When he learned that the subjects\nof the latter were suffering cruelly from the oppression of his\nminister and that his generals were weakened by hunger, he took heart\nand invaded the kingdom. Then King Khochtacab commanded that his\ntreasury should be opened, and that they should take out all the wealth\nto gratify the army, gain the hearts of the generals, and defray the\nexpenses of the war. But he found that there was nothing left in the\ntreasury. The army, weakened, was incapable of resisting. The King,\nshut up in his fort, found it impossible to attack the enemy, and they\nravaged and despoiled the kingdom.\n\nThe King, having been considered so great, was cruelly wounded by shame\nat his defeat. He knew not which way to turn his steps. His soul was\nprofoundly troubled. One day, when he had gone forth from the city,\nwandering at random through plain and forest, he saw a shepherd's hut\nin the distance, at the door of which were two dogs hanging by the\nneck. Seeing the King, the shepherd approached and led him to his hovel\nand served him with the best food he could afford. But the King said:\n\n\"I shall not eat until you have told me why you have hanged these two\ndogs at your cabin-door.\"\n\nThe shepherd responded: \"O king of the world, I hanged these two dogs\nbecause they betrayed my flock. As my flock was wasting away, I hid one\nday to see what took place. The wolf came and the dogs played with him\nand let him carry off sheep and goats. So I hanged the two dogs as\nfaithless traitors.\"\n\nThe King returned to the city and thought over this singular story. \"It\nis a lesson for me,\" he said, \"a revelation. It is impossible not to\nsee that my subjects are the flock and I am the shepherd, while my\nminister has acted like the shepherd's dogs, and the enemy who has my\nkingdom is the wolf. I must examine into the conduct of my minister and\nsee with what fidelity he has served me.\"\n\nWhen he had returned to the palace he called his secretaries and bade\nthem bring the registers in which the accounts of the kingdom were\nkept. When these registers were opened he saw that they mentioned only\nthe name of the minister Rassat Rouchin, and included such statements\nas: \"Intercession of Rassat Rouchin in favor of princes so and so,\nministers such and such, and grandees this and that, who ask pardon for\ntheir faults. Rassat Rouchin took their treasures and granted them\ngrace.\" There was nothing else in the registers. When the King saw this\nhe said:\n\n  \"Who rests his faith upon a name goes often without bread,\n   While he who faithless proves for bread shall lose his soul\ninstead.\"\n\nThese words the King had engraved in letters of gold and fastened to\nthe gate. And at this gate he had the false minister hanged as the dogs\nwere hanged at the cabin-door.\n\nA King of Persia, in a fit of anger against his wife for a certain\nfault which she had committed, commanded his prime minister to put her\nto death, together with her nursing infant. The minister, on account of\nthe furious anger of the King, did not dare to plead the Queen's cause,\nbut took her to his mother's house. The minister found another woman\nwho had been condemned to death and had her executed, telling the King\nthat it was the Queen who was beheaded. The King's child grew and\nnourished until he had become a handsome young man. But the King grew\nmore and more morose and melancholy, and shut himself up in the palace.\nThe minister, noticing this continual sadness of the King, said:\n\n\"O king of the world, what has come over the heart of your Majesty?\nPray tell me the cause of your sorrow.\"\n\nAnd the King said: \"O minister, how should I not be sad and disturbed?\nHere I am getting old and I have no son to cause my name to live and\nprotect my kingdom. That is the cause of my sorrow and unhappiness.\"\n\nWhen the minister heard these words he said, \"O king of the world, your\nsorrow shall not long endure, for you have a son, capable of preserving\nand protecting your kingdom. This son of yours has intelligence,\neducation, natural gifts, and great personal beauty, and is of most\nexcellent character.\"\n\nThe King said, \"Where is this son of whose existence I have been\nunaware?\"\n\nThe minister answered, \"Your Majesty is not aware of his existence, but\nI know that he is very much alive.\" The minister then related how he\nhad spared the lives of the Queen and her child. The King was\ntransported with joy, and cried, \"Happy the king who has such a\nminister!\"\n\nThe minister bowed low and said, \"When shall your son, the prince,\npresent himself?\"\n\nThe King answered: \"Go seek forty young men of his age, build, figure,\nand complexion. Have them all dressed alike. Bring these forty young\nmen with my son to a certain place in the plain. Await me there, but\ntell not this secret to a soul. When I have arrived at the spot then\ncause these forty young men to present themselves before me. If my son\nis among them I shall most certainly recognize him.\"\n\nThe minister took leave of the King, and with a heart filled with joy\nset about doing what the King had ordered. When the King had arrived at\nthe spot chosen his minister advanced, followed by forty-one youths,\nall dressed alike. As soon as the King had seen them he recognized his\nson and called him to his side. Then he went back to the city with him\nand all the grandees. The next day he invited the latter to a great\nfestival, and gave to each of them a splendid present. He turned over\nhis kingdom to his son, taking care to place him and his government\nunder the tutelage of the good minister who had saved his wife and\nbrought him up. Then the King went into a religious retreat, and as\nlong as he lived occupied himself in the service of God.\n\nThe Sultan Alexander, called the Two-Horned, at the beginning of his\nreign sent an ambassador to King Darius, who was then at the zenith of\nhis greatness. On his return, this ambassador made his report to King\nAlexander. The latter read it, but had doubts over a certain word\ntherein contained. He questioned his ambassador about the word, saying,\n\"Did you hear that exact word from the mouth of King Darius?\"\n\nThe ambassador replied, \"I heard it with my own ears.\"\n\nKing Alexander, not being able to believe it, wrote a second letter,\nmentioning this word, and despatched to King Darius another ambassador,\ncharged to deliver it. When King Darius, reading the letter of King\nAlexander, came to this special word, he took a knife and cut it out,\nthen wrote a letter to King Alexander, in which he said: \"The sincerity\nof the soul of the King is the foundation of his realm and his\ngreatness. His words, therefore, should be faithfully transmitted and\nreproduced by his ambassador. I have cut out of your letter a certain\nword, because it was never pronounced by me. And if your former\nambassador were only here I would cut out his lying tongue even as I\nhave cut out the word from your letter.\"\n\nWhen this answer of King Darius's was borne to King Alexander he read\nit and summoned before him the faithless ambassador. \"Why,\" said he,\n\"were you willing, with a word, to cause the loss of many men and\ncountries?\"\n\n\"Because they showed me little deference and did not treat me well.\"\n\nKing Alexander said: \"Foolish man! And you thought that we sent you to\nlook after your own personal interests, and neglect those of the\nnation?\" He commanded that his tongue should be torn out, and made a\nproclamation, saying, \"This is the fate of traitors who falsely report\nthe words of kings.\"\n\nIn the Kitab Tarykh the following is recounted: The Sultan Homayoun\nsent an ambassador to the King of Khorassan. When this ambassador, on\nhis arrival in the country, had delivered the letter of the Sultan to\nthe King, the latter asked:\n\n\"How does your King conduct himself regarding his subjects? How does he\ngovern them?\"\n\n\"The rule of conduct and the mode of government used by my King,\"\nanswered the ambassador, \"are to make himself loved by all his\nsubjects.\"\n\nThe King asked, \"Of what nature is the affection of your King for his\nsubjects?\"\n\n\"That of a mother and father for their children and grandchildren.\"\n\n\"In hard and calamitous times, how does your King conduct himself?\"\n\n\"He shows that he cares not for riches, for the door of his treasury is\nalways open.\"\n\n\"In the daily receptions how does your King behave?\"\n\n\"The receptions of my King resemble the gardens of Paradise refreshed\nby sweet breezes and scented with the balmy breath of sweetly smelling\nplants or like a sea filled with pearls and corals.\"\n\nThe King asked again, \"And in council how speaks your King?\"\n\nThe ambassador answered, \"All those who hear my King in council become\nwise if they lack wisdom, and brave if they lack courage.\"\n\nThe King of Khorassan was enchanted with the answers of the ambassador,\nloaded him with presents, and said to him: \"The spirit and judgment of\nyour King are reflected in the person of his ambassador. They should\nall be like you.\" And he addressed in answer to the Sultan a letter\nfilled with compliments and felicitations.\n\nIn the Kitab Tarykh it is related that the Sultan Mahmoud was fond of\nhis servant Ayaz on account of the excellence of his wit and judgment.\nThe other servants of the Sultan were jealous of Ayaz, and murmured\nagainst him. One day the ministers and grandees were in the presence of\nthe Sultan Mahmoud, and Ayaz was standing respectfully before him.\nSomeone brought a cucumber as a present to the Sultan. The Sultan\nsliced it and ate a morsel. He found it very bitter, but gave no sign\nof this. He handed a piece of it to Ayaz, saying, \"Eat some of this\ncucumber and tell me how it tastes, so that the others present may eat\nsome of it also, and tell us if they ever ate anything like it.\" Ayaz\nsaluted, and ate of the cucumber with an appearance of pleasure.\n\n\"It is very good.\"\n\nThe King made the others eat of it. They found that it was bitter, and\nwere angry with Ayaz, and asked how he dare to lie in such a manner.\n\n\"It is true,\" said the Sultan; \"how could you say it was good?\"\n\nAyaz answered with respect: \"May the Lord bless the king of the world!\nHow many favors have you given me! How many sweet and savory dainties!\nHow, then, could I make a wry face over one bitter morsel? I ought, on\nthe contrary, to declare that the bitterness of this mouthful is\ncompletely annulled by the delicious sweetness of the others, so that\nyour Majesty shall continue to bestow dainties upon me as before.\"\n\nA certain king, vain of his royal power, had a servant who was very\npious and a true believer, very punctilious in the practice of his\nreligious duties. The King distinguished him above all the others as\none in whom he could trust on account of the integrity of his heart. He\nhad given him this order: \"Go not far away from here, day or night.\nKeep close watch, and neglect not my service.\" The servant, after\nfinishing his religious duties, took his post, where the King from time\nto time sent for him. But the King had need of him, and he was not to\nbe found. They sent to look for him, but in vain, and the King grew\nvery angry with him. Finally the servant arrived and prostrated himself\nbefore the King. The latter, full of wrath, demanded:\n\n\"Why are you late? Why don't you pay attention to my orders?\" And he\ncommanded that the man be punished, to make him more attentive to the\nKing's service.\n\nBut the servant replied, \"If I am late, it is only on account of the\ngreat embarrassment in which I find myself placed.\"\n\n\"What embarrassment? Tell me.\"\n\nThe servant, bowing low, spoke as follows: \"My embarrassment comes from\nthe fact that I have two masters to serve. The first is the true\nMaster, he who created the universe and the children of Adam, whose\npunishments are very severe. The second is only the servant of the\nformer, and not the true master. I am obliged to attend to the service\nof the true Master before the service of the second. That is the\nembarrassment in which I find myself.\"\n\nWhen the King heard these words he shed abundant tears, and said: \"From\nthis day forth you are free. Follow the service of the Lord, and do not\nforget to pray for me.\"\n\nThe servants of the King should love their King more than they love\ntheir own life, their mother, their father, their children, their\ngrandchildren, their family, their riches, and all that belongs to\nthem. In a word, for them the person of their King should be above all,\nso that one may call them true servants of the King, and that in all\ntruth they may be termed his favorites. They tell the story that one\nday the Sultan Mahmoud Ghazi (may grace be upon him!) was seated on his\nthrone, surrounded by his ministers and his officers, among whom was\nAyaz. The Sultan said to his treasurer:\n\n\"Go to the treasure-chamber. Take to a certain place gold, silver,\nprecious stones, and other objects of great value. For we are going\nthere to amuse ourselves, and present these treasures to those who\nshall accompany us.\"\n\nOne day the Sultan started to go and amuse himself at that place, and\nas soon as the news spread abroad, a great number of people followed\nhim there. When he arrived he halted at a spot level, clean, and well\nlighted, and said to his treasurer:\n\n\"Expose my treasures here, in this place, so that all those who are\nhappy shall obtain a present according to their degree of happiness,\nand that one may know who are those who have the most luck and those\nwho have the least.\"\n\nAll hearing these words quickly approached, pressing forward, with\ntheir eyes wide open and their looks fixed on the treasurer, praying\nhim to exhibit the presents at the designated place. At this very\nmoment the Sultan spurred his horse to a gallop and rode from their\npresence. When he was far away and out of their sight, he stopped and\nlooked behind him. There he saw Ayaz, the only one who had followed\nhim. The others, preoccupied with getting their share of the treasures,\nnever suspected that the Sultan had gone and was already far away from\nthem. The Sultan, halting a moment, returned to the city.\n\nOn their side, the ministers and the grandees, having taken possession\nof the most precious objects, returned joyfully to their homes. On the\nway they compared notes with each other about their shares of the\ntreasure. One said, \"I had the best luck\"; and another, \"No, I had the\nbest.\" And all, whoever they were, said the same thing, for all except\nAyaz had their share of the King's presents. So they said among\nthemselves, \"It is clear that the one who has no luck is Ayaz.\"\n\nSome jealous ones added: \"In truth, Master Ayaz has no luck at all. By\nhis lack of intelligence and good judgment he has had none of the\nSultan's presents.\"\n\nAyaz heard all these remarks, but kept silence. Some days later, the\nSultan came out of his palace and sat upon the throne. All the grandees\ncame into his presence. Ayaz was standing before him. The Sultan asked:\n\n\"Who among you had no luck?\"\n\nThe ministers answered: \"It is Ayaz! He did not get a single one of\nyour Majesty's many presents. It is clear that he has no luck, for he\nleft all those precious objects and came back with empty hands.\"\n\nThe Sultan said: \"O Ayaz, are our presents without value in your eyes,\nthat you disdain them? I don't know why you took nothing that was\nwithin your grasp. You would have prevented them from saying that you\nhave no luck. What was your motive in doing a thing that has the\napprobation of nobody?\"\n\nAyaz responded: \"May the days and prosperity of the King increase! May\nthe presents never tarnish that he has given to his servants. As for\nme, I have more luck than those who received the presents of your\nMajesty.\"\n\nThe Sultan said, \"O Ayaz, prove to me the truth of your words.\"\n\nAyaz responded: \"If they found some part in the largesses which were\ngiven them, I found the author himself of those great gifts. If they\nfound gold, I found the master of the gold. If others found silver, I\nfound the master of silver. If others found precious stones, I found\nthe master of precious stones. If others yet found some pearls, I found\nthe ocean of pearls. Who, therefore, O king of the world, among all\nthose who vaunt themselves as having luck, has more than I have?\"\n\nThe Sultan replied: \"O Ayaz, tell me what is the meaning of your words.\nWhere is all that which you say you found?\"\n\nAyaz responded: \"May the most high protect the person of the king of\nthe world, more precious to me than all those objects of price! In\nwhatever place may be his august person, there I am, and I thus obtain\nall that my heart desires. When I am with your Majesty, and your\nMajesty is with me, what do I lack? Who, then, has more luck than I\nhave?\"\n\nOne day the Sultan Alexander was plunged in sadness, and kept himself\nshut up in his palace. The wise Aristotle came before him, and seeing\nhim absorbed in sad thoughts, asked him:\n\n\"Why is the Sultan so sad and what keeps him from going out of his\npalace?\"\n\nThe Sultan Alexander answered: \"I am grieving at the thought of the\nsmallness of this world, and of all the troubles I am giving myself and\nothers for the sake of reigning over a world that is so little worth.\nIt is the vanity of my works that renders me sad.\"\n\nAristotle replied: \"The reflection of the Sultan is just, for what, in\ntruth, is the world? Certainly it has not enough importance by itself\nthat the Sultan should occupy himself with a vain kingdom. But the\ngovernment of this world is a mark of the sublime and eternal kingdom\nof the other world, and this kingdom the Sultan can obtain by governing\nthis present world with justice. Your Majesty must therefore give all\nhis cares to the government of this world, to obtain finally in the\nother world a kingdom of which the greatness is beyond measure and the\nduration is eternal.\"\n\nThe Sultan Alexander heard with pleasure the words of his wise\ncounsellor.\n\nTwo qualities are essential to kings, generosity and magnanimity. When\na minister remarks, in his king, sentiments unworthy of his rank, he\nshould warn him of the fact, and should turn him from unworthy actions.\nThey tell that a king, having made a gift of 500 dirhems, his minister\nsaid to him: \"I have heard from the mouth of wise men that it is not\npermitted to kings to make a present of less than 1,000 dirhems!\"\n\nOne day Haroun-er-Raschid made a gift of 500 tahil. His minister, named\nYahya, made by signs and by gestures every effort to prevent him from\ndoing this. When all those who had been present were gone, Haroun-er-\nRaschid said:\n\n\"O Yahya! what were you trying to do with all your signs?\"\n\nThe latter replied: \"O prince of true believers! I was trying to say\nthat kings should never let it be seen that they are capable of making\npresents of less than 1,000 dirhems.\"\n\nOne day King Mamoun-er-Raschid heard his minister, named Abbas, say to\na servant, \"Go to the bazaar and buy something with this half-tahil.\"\n\nMamoun-er-Raschid was angry with him and said: \"You are capable of\ndividing a tahil in two! That is not proper in a minister; you are not\nworthy of the name,\" and he forthwith deposed him from office.\n\nIn the Kitab Sifat-el-Molouk it is related that the King Chabour,\ngiving his last instructions to his son, said as follows: \"O my son!\nwhenever you make a present to anyone, do not bestow it with your own\nhands. Do not even examine or have brought into your own presence the\ngifts that you make. Whenever you give a present, see that it be at\nleast the equivalent of the revenue of a town in value, so that it will\nenrich the recipients, and make them and their children and\ngrandchildren free from adversity. Furthermore, my child, beware all\nyour life of giving yourself up to operations of commerce in your\nkingdom. For this kind of affairs is unworthy a king who has greatness\nof character, prosperity, and birth.\"\n\nKing Harmuz received one day a letter from his minister in which he\nsaid: \"Many merchants being in town with a great quantity of jewels,\npearls, hyacinths, rubies, diamonds, and other precious stones, I\nbought all they had for your Majesty, paying 200,000 tahil. Immediately\nafterward there arrived some merchants from another country who wanted\nto buy these and offered me a profit of 200,000 tahil. If the King\nconsents I will sell the jewels, and later buy others.\"\n\nKing Harmuz wrote to his minister the following response: \"What are\n200,000 tahil? What are 400,000 tahil, profit included? Is that worth\ntalking about and making so much ado? If you are going into the\noperations of commerce who will look after the government? If you buy\nand sell, what will become of the merchants? It is evident that you\nwould destroy thus our good renown, and that you are the enemy of the\nmerchants of our kingdom, for your designs would ruin them. Your\nsentiments are unworthy a minister.\" And for this he removed him from\noffice.\n\nIn the Kitab Sifat-el-Houkama it is said: \"There is a great diversity\nof inclinations among men. Everyone has his own propensity. One is\nborne naturally toward riches, another toward patience and resignation,\nanother toward study and good works. And in this world the humors of\nmen are so varied that they all differ in nature. Among this infinite\nvariety of dispositions of soul, that which best suits kings and\nministers is greatness of character, for that quality is the ornament\nof royalty.\n\n\"One day the minister of the Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid was returning\nfrom the council of state to his house when he was approached by a\nbeggar who said: 'O Yahya! misery brings me to you. I pray you give me\nsomething.'\n\n\"When Yahya had arrived at his house he made the beggar sit down at the\ndoor, and calling an attendant said to him: 'Every day give this man\n1,000 dinars, and for his food give him his part in the provisions\nconsumed in your house.'\n\n\"They say that for a month the beggar came every day and sat at Yahya's\ndoor, and received the sum of 1,000 dinars. When he had received them\nat the end of the month, 30,000 dinars, the beggar went away. When\ninformed of his departure, Yahya said: 'By the Lord! if he had not gone\naway, and had come to my door for the rest of his life, I should have\ngiven him the same daily ration.'\"\n\nIn the Kitab Tarykh the following is told: \"There was once upon a time\na Persian king named Khrosrou, remarkable among all the kings of Persia\nfor his power, his greatness of character, his goodness, and the purity\nof his morals. His wife, named Chirine, was of a rare beauty, and no\none at that time could be compared to her, for she possessed all the\nvirtues. Khrosrou passionately loved Chirine, and among the books,\nfamous in the world, which speak of loving couples, there is one called\n'Khrosrou and Chirine.' One day Khrosrou was seated in the palace with\nhis wife Chirine, when a fisherman brought in a fine fish as a present\nto Khrosrou. The latter ordered them to give him a present of 4,000\ndirhems.\n\n\"'You are wrong,' said Chirine.\n\n\"'And why?' asked the King.\n\n\"'If, in the future, you made one of your servants a present of 4,000\ndirhems he will not fail to say forthwith, \"I am considered as the\nequal of a fisherman.\" If your present is less than 4,000 dirhems, then\nnecessarily he will say, \"I am considered as being less than a\nfisherman,\" and your actions will sadden his heart.'\"\n\n\"Khrosrou said: 'Your observation is just. But I have spoken, and I\ncannot reverse what I have said, for it is shameful for a king to fail\nin keeping his word.'\n\n\"Chirine replied, 'Never mind, I know a way, and no one can say that\nyou broke your promise.'\n\n\"'What is this way?' asked Khrosrou.\n\n\"Chirine answered: 'Put this question to the fisherman, \"Is this a\nfresh-water or a salt-water fish?\"\n\n\"'If he answers, \"It is a fresh-water fish,\" say, \"I want a salt-water\none,\" and the contrary. Then he will go away and you will be released\nfrom your foolish promise.'\"\n\n\"Khrosrou, who by love of Chirine could not help hearing her advice and\nfollowing it, put the question to the fisherman. But the latter,\nsuspecting a trap, said, 'It is both.' King Khrosrou began to laugh,\nand gave him 4,000 dirhems in addition.\n\n\"The fisherman, having received his 8,000 dirhems, put them in a sack\nand went away. On the journey, a dirhem fell to the ground, and the\nfisherman, lowering his sack, began to search for the dirhem that had\nfallen. When he found it, he placed it with the others and took up his\nmarch again.\n\n\"Khrosrou and Chirine had both been witnesses of his action. Chirine\nsaid to Khrosrou: 'Behold the baseness and the lack of judgment of the\nfisherman. He wearied himself to hunt for one dirhem when he had a sack\nfull of them. Recall him and do him shame.'\n\n\"Khrosrou, who from his love for Chirine was incapable of resisting her\nwords, and always obeyed them, recalled the fisherman and said to him:\n'Of a truth, you have a low soul, and possess neither judgment nor\ndignity. What! One of your 8,000 dirhems was lost and you deferred your\njourney until you had found it? That shows the baseness of your soul\nand your lack of judgment.'\n\n\"The fisherman made obeisance and answered: 'May the prosperity of the\nking of the world increase! I sought not the dirhem on account of its\nmoney value, but only on account of the greatness and importance of the\nwords engraved upon the coin. On one of its sides is written the name\nof God most high. On the other side is written the name of the King.\nHad I not found the dirhem, and had left it on the ground, then people\npassing would have trodden upon it, and the two names inscribed upon\nit, and which ought to be glorified by all men, would have been\ndespised and disgraced, and I would have been the accomplice of all the\npassers-by who trod upon it. That is why I took the trouble to find the\ndirhem.'\n\n\"Khrosrou was pleased with this answer and gave him still another 4,000\ndirhems. The fisherman, filled with joy, took his 12,000 dirhems and\nreturned to his home.\"\n\nA man had committed a serious offence against King Haroun-er-Raschid.\nCondemned to death, he succeeded in escaping. But he had a brother. The\nKing summoned the latter and said to him: \"Find your brother so that I\nmay kill him. If you do not find him I will kill you in his place.\"\nThis man not finding his brother, the King Haroun-er-Raschid ordered\none of his servants to bring him to be killed. But this servant said:\n\"O prince of believers! if the one who received the command to put this\nman to death brings him for that purpose and at the same time a\nmessenger comes from your Majesty with an order not to kill him, ought\nhe not to release him?\"\n\nKing Haroun-er-Raschid answered, \"He certainly ought to release him, on\naccount of my orders.\"\n\n\"O prince of believers,\" answered the servant, \"the Koran says, 'He who\nhas a burden shall not bear another's.'\"\n\nThen the King said: \"Set the man free, for this must cover his case,\nand means that the innocent should not perish for the guilty.\"\n\nThey tell that, a pundit appearing one day before the Sultan Ismail\nSamani, King of the country of Khorassan, the Sultan received him with\ngreat distinction, and at his departure saluted him most respectfully\nand escorted him to the door, taking seven steps behind him.\n\nThe next night he dreamed that the glorious prophet (with whom be\npeace!) spoke thus to him: \"O Ismail, because you honored one of my\npundits, I will pray God that after you seven of your children and\ngrandchildren shall become great and glorious kings.\" They say that for\nmany years the kingdom of Khorassan flourished under the paternal\ngovernment of the successors of this Sultan.\n\nThe Sultan Abdallah Tlahir, as soon as he had taken possession of the\nthrone of Khorassan, received the homage of a large number of his\nsubjects. At the end of several days he asked, \"Is there anyone of\ndistinction in the country who has not come to present himself before\nme?\" They told him, \"There are two persons that have not come, one\nnamed Ahmed Arab, and the other named Mahomet Islam. But these two men\nnever present themselves before kings and ministers.\"\n\nThe Sultan replied, \"Since they will not come to find kings and\nministers, I must go to them.\" So one day the Sultan repaired to the\nhouse of Ahmed Arab. The latter, immediately arising, remained standing\na long time facing the Sultan. Then regarding him fixedly he said to\nhim: \"O Sultan, I had heard tell of your beauty, and I now see that\nthey spoke the truth. Make not of that body the embers of hell.\"\nSaying this he returned to his prayers. The Sultan Abdallah Tlahir went\naway from the sheik's house weeping.\n\nHe then betook himself to the house of Mahomet Islam. At the news that\nthe Sultan was coming to see him, the sheik shut the door of his house,\nsaying: \"I ought not to see him. I ought not to speak to him.\"\n\nThe Sultan departed in tears and said: \"Friday, when the sheik goes to\nthe mosque I will go to him.\"\n\nWhen Friday came he was on horseback, surrounded by soldiers, awaiting\nthe arrival of the sheik. As soon as he perceived him, he dismounted,\napproached him on foot, and saluted him. The sheik asked: \"Who are you?\nWhat do you want of me?\"\n\nThe Sultan answered: \"It is I, Abdallah Tlahir. I have come to see the\nsheik.\"\n\nThe latter, turning away his face, said to the Sultan, \"What connection\nis there between you and me?\"\n\nThe Sultan fell at the feet of the sheik, in tears, in the middle of\nthe highway, and, invoking God the most high, spoke as follows, \"O\nLord, forgive my faults, on account of the many virtues of this\nfaithful sheik.\" And he was forgiven and became a good man.\n\nThe imam El-Chafei (may mercy be with him!), going from the city of\nJerusalem to the country of Egypt, halted in a town called Ramla. One\nof the inhabitants of this town took him into his house and entertained\nhim with many attentions. The companions of the imam El-Chafei\nperceived that he felt a certain inquietude, but none of them knew the\nreason for it. The more the master of the house showered his attentions\nand civilities, the more disturbed the imam seemed to be. Finally at\nthe moment when the imam was mounting his horse to continue his\njourney, the master of the house arrived and put a writing into his\nhands. On reading this, the imam lost his worried air, and, giving\norders to pay the man thirty dinars, he went on his way rejoicing. One\nof his companions asked him:\n\n\"Why were you so disturbed? What did the writing say? And why did you\nshow so much joy in reading it?\"\n\nThe imam El-Chafei answered: \"When our host took us to his house I\nnoticed that his face lacked the characteristic signs of honesty. But\nas he treated us so well I began to think perhaps I was mistaken in\njudging him. But when I read the writing he handed me I saw it was as\nfollows: 'While the imam has been here I have spent on him ten dinars.\nHe ought therefore to pay me back twenty.' So then I knew that I had\nmade no error in reading his character, and was pleased at my skill.\"\n\nThe story is told that one day as the prophet Solomon was seated on his\nroyal throne, surrounded by men, spirits, and birds, two women came\nbefore him, each claiming possession of a child. These two women kept\nsaying, \"It is my child,\" but neither could give proof. All their\narguments amounting to nothing, the prophet Solomon commanded that the\nchild should be cut in two, and that each woman should take half. When\nthe executioner advanced, drawing his sword, one of the women bursting\ninto sobs cried out in anguish: \"O Prophet Solomon, don't kill the\nchild. Give it to this woman, it is all I ask!\"\n\nAs the murder of the child never drew a tear nor a movement of anxiety\nfrom the other woman, Solomon commanded them to give it to the woman\nwho had wept, because her tears proved her to be the true mother, and\nthat the child belonged to her, and not to the other woman. Thus did\nKing Solomon show his wisdom in judging character.\n\nO you who are magnificent! listen, I pray you, and hear to what degree\nof sublimity generosity is lifted. In the Kitab Adab-is-Selathin it is\nsaid that two qualities were given by God in all their perfection to\ntwo men--justice to Sultan Nouchirvau, King of Persia, and generosity\nto a subject of an Arab sultan named Hatim-Thai. The author of that\nwork says that in the time of Hatim-Thai there were three kings\ncelebrated throughout the whole world, and rivals in showing the\nperfection of generosity--the King of Roum, the King of Syria, and the\nKing of Yemen. But as none of them was as famous as Hatim-Thai, they\nbecame jealous of him and united in hostility toward him. They said:\n\"We are the kings of vast countries, and shall we suffer a simple\nsubject of an Arab sultan to be counted as more generous than we are?\"\nAnd each of these kings thought to try Hatim-Thai and destroy him.\n\nThe first of the three who attempted the undertaking was the King of\nRoum. This King said to one of his ministers: \"O minister, I hear tell\nthat there is among the Arabs a man named Hatim-Thai, and that he is\nreputed the most generous man in the world. I am displeased that my\nname is not as noted for generosity as his. I want to make a proof and\nsee if his fame is true or false. I have heard that Hatim-Thai\npossesses a horse which he loves as he does his own soul. Well, we will\nask him to give us this beloved horse.\"\n\nThe minister sent an envoy, with suitable presents and a letter to give\nto Hatim-Thai. He arrived in a great storm of wind and rain which\npermitted no one to attend to his affairs abroad. It was already night,\nand Hatim-Thai had made no preparations to receive a guest, but he\nreceived the stranger with the marks of the highest respect and\ngreatest cordiality.\n\n\"What need brings you here to-night?\" he asked.\n\n\"Nothing but to visit you,\" replied the envoy, and he never mentioned\nthat evening his mission from the King of Roum.\n\nAs there was nothing in the house to eat, Hatim-Thai killed his\nfavorite horse and served it for his guest's supper. As soon as it was\nday, the envoy presented the gifts and the letter from the King of\nRoum. When he read the passage in the letter where the King asked for\nthe horse which had just been killed, Hatim-Thai turned pale and could\nnot say a word. The envoy, observing him in this state, imagined that\nhe regretted the gift of his horse, and said:\n\n\"O Hatim-Thai, if it is not with pleasure that you give your horse to\nmy master, think no more about it, and let me return to my country.\"\n\nHatim-Thai answered: \"O envoy of the King of Roum! if I had a thousand\nhorses like that one I should give them all without a moment's\nhesitation. But last night I asked you the motive which brought you\nhither, and you said it was merely to visit me. So I killed the horse\nfor your food, and that is why I am afflicted with sorrow at my lack of\nforesight.\" He sent the envoy back home with many other horses as a\ngift.\n\nThe envoy told the whole story and the King of Roum said: \"The renown\nof Hatim-Thai is deserved; he is the most generous of men.\" He made an\nalliance of friendship with him, and the fame of Hatim-Thai grew apace.\n\nThe second one who tested Hatim-Thai's generosity was the King of\nSyria. He said: \"How can Hatim-Thai, who lives in the woods and the\nplains, occupied in pasturing goats, camels, and horses, be more\ngenerous than so great a King as I? I will put him to the proof. I will\nask rich presents that he cannot give, and he will be shamed and\nhumiliated before kings and peoples.\"\n\nSo the King of Syria sent an envoy to Hatim-Thai to ask for 100 red\ncamels with long manes, black eyes, and very tall. Camels of this sort\nare hard to find, only kings having four or five. When the envoy had\narrived he told Hatim-Thai what the King of Syria asked of him. Hatim-\nThai was full of joy hearing the words of the envoy, and hastened to\nregale him bountifully with food and drink. Then he searched among his\ncamels, but found none such as the King of Syria desired. He ordered\nsearch to be made among the peoples of his nation, Arabs and Bedouins,\noffering a large price. By the will of God a Bedouin succeeded in\nfinding 100, and Hatim-Thai asked only the delay of one month in\npayment. The envoy returned home with the red camels and many other\npresents. Seeing them, the King of Syria was struck with astonishment\nand cried: \"Behold, we wished only to test Hatim-Thai, and now he has\ngone into debt to satisfy our desire. Yes, truly he is the most\ngenerous man in the world.\"\n\nHe commanded them to send back to Hatim-Thai the 100 red camels loaded\nwith magnificent presents. As soon as they arrived, Hatim-Thai summoned\nthe owner and gave him the camels with all their burden of riches,\nwithout keeping anything for himself. When the envoy, returning home\nagain, recounted all these things, the King of Syria marvelled and\nexclaimed: \"No one can equal Hatim-Thai. He is generosity itself, in\nall its perfection.\"\n\nThe third king, that is, the King of Yemen, was very generous, and\nwanted no one to rival him in this particular. So when he heard of the\nfame of Hatim-Thai for generosity, he was vexed and full of sorrow. He\nsaid: \"How can that poor Hatim equal in generosity a great king like\nme? I give alms to the poor, I feed them, and every day I give them\nclothing. How is it possible that anyone can dare to mention the name\nof Hatim-Thai in my presence as the most generous of men?\"\n\nNow, at that time an ambassador of the King of Maghreb arrived at the\nCourt of the King of Yemen, who spoke of the wonderful generosity of\nHatim-Thai. He felt as if his heart was burning, but did not let his\ngrief appear, and said to himself:\n\n\"Everybody repeats the praises of Hatim, one after another, without\nknowing exactly who he is, of what birth, and what are the means which\npermit him thus to give hospitality. I shall cause him to perish.\"\n\nThe King of Yemen summoned a Bedouin, a bandit celebrated for his\nferocity, without pity for the life of a man. The Bedouin arrived, and\nthe King gave him gold, silver, and clothing. \"O Bedouin,\" he said to\nhim, \"if you will perform an affair for us, we will give you whatever\nyou ask.\"\n\nThe Bedouin answered: \"O my lord, king of the world, what is your\nMajesty's will?\"\n\nThe King of Yemen replied: \"There is a man named Hatim-Thai, of the\ntribe of Thai, on the confines of Syria. Go to this country, and employ\nall the tricks you can to kill him. When you have killed him bring me\nhis head. If you succeed in doing as I wish, whatever you ask, it shall\nbe given you.\"\n\nThese words of the King filled with joy the Bedouin's heart. He said to\nhimself: \"Here is a good piece of work. For an old tattered cloak I\nwill kill a man. Why then should I hesitate a moment for a superb cloak\nof scarlet?\"\n\nTaking leave of the King, the Bedouin set out promptly and went toward\nSyria in search of Hatim-Thai. After a while he arrived at a village\nnear to Syria, and there he met a young man of a rare beauty. His face\nbore the marks of virtue, his language was full of sweetness and\naffability, his soul was righteous, and his heart compassionate. He\nasked the Bedouin where he was going. The latter answered, \"I am from\nthe country of Yemen, and am going to Syria.\"\n\nThe young man replied: \"O my brother! I wish you would do me the favor\nto rest for a day and a night in my house, and I will do the best to\nentertain you. After that you shall go on your journey when you wish.\"\n\nThe Bedouin heard these words with pleasure, and went into the young\nman's house. There he was treated magnificently and regaled so lavishly\nthat he thought he had never seen and eaten so much. He slept\npeacefully all night. At dawn he said farewell, eager to gain the end\nof his journey. The young man said to him: \"O my brother, if it is\npossible, stay two or three days longer, I beg you, so that by my\nhospitality I may show all the sincere affection that my heart feels\nfor you.\"\n\nThe Bedouin replied: \"O my brother, truly would I remain some time\nlonger here, had I not a most important and delicate mission to fulfil.\nIt is impossible for me to stay and enjoy myself here, while I have not\nyet accomplished my errand.\"\n\nThe young man answered: \"O my brother, what is this difficult and\ndelicate affair which prevents you from staying here? If you will tell\nme, doubtless I shall find some means of coming to your aid, and\nlightening the burden which weighs so heavily upon your heart. But,\nnow, what can I do since you tell me nothing?\"\n\nHearing these words, the Bedouin kept silence. He said to himself:\n\"This affair is not easy to execute. It might be of use for me to have\na prudent and discreet companion to confer with him about it. Perhaps I\nshould do well to talk of it to this young man and ask his advice.\"\n\nAnd nevertheless he dared not yet trust his secret, and his perplexity\nwas written on his countenance. He could not utter a single word, and\nremained very anxious.\n\nThe young man observing the state of the Bedouin said to him: \"O\nservant of God, your embarrassment is evident; you fear to open your\nheart to me. God alone, in truth, knows the secrets of his servants.\nBut, in your present situation, it may be that I can be of some benefit\nto you.\"\n\nThe Bedouin, hearing these words of the young man, said to him: \"O my\nloyal friend, know then that I am an Arab-Bedouin of the country of\nYemen; that of all the Bedouins of Arabia there is not one so wicked\nnor so great a thief as I, and that my fame as a bandit is celebrated\nthroughout all Yemen. The King, having resolved upon a wicked deed,\nordered his minister to find a man capable of performing it. As I had\nthe reputation of being the greatest bandit of the country of Yemen, I\nwas summoned to the presence of the King. As soon as his Majesty saw me\nhe loaded me with presents and said: 'If you do as I wish I will give\nyou many more presents of gold and silver and other magnificent\nthings.' I replied, 'O my lord, king of the world, what is this\naffair?' 'You must go and kill a man named Hatim-Thai, who lives on the\nconfines of Syria.' To this I replied: 'O my lord, king of the world, I\nam only a Bedouin, a poor robber, wandering in the forests and the\nplains. For drink I have but the brackish water of the marshes. For\nfood I have only rats and locusts.' On account of my wretchedness, I\nobeyed the wishes of the King, and promised to execute this affair. But\nhere I am, in a very embarrassing situation, for I do not know this\nHatim-Thai, and I don't even know where his tribe is, the Ben-Thai.\"\n\nThe young man, hearing these words, began to laugh, and said: \"O my\nbrother, be not disturbed. I know this Hatim-Thai, and I will show him\nto you.\" These words rejoiced the Bedouin. The young man continued: \"O\nmy brother, know that the tribe of Ben-Thai inhabit this village, and\nthat the man named Hatim-Thai is himself in this tribe. If you will\nfollow exactly what I indicate to you, you will certainly accomplish\nyour mission.\"\n\nThe Bedouin answered: \"O my brother, I place my life in your hands.\nWhat must be done?\"\n\nThe young man answered: \"O my brother, there is a place where Hatim-\nThai goes for recreation. It is an extremely deserted place, which no\none ever visits. When he gets there he eats, drinks, and then he\nsleeps, his head covered with a cloth, and his horse tied near by. You\nwill arrive at that moment, you will promptly execute the wish of the\nKing, you will jump upon the horse and dash away from this place and go\nwherever you like.\"\n\nThe young man went then to show the place to the Bedouin, and giving\nhim a poniard with two edges well sharpened, he said: \"O my brother,\nto-morrow Hatim-Thai will come to this spot. Forget nothing that you\nhave to do.\"\n\nAll the instruction of the young man were followed by the Bedouin.\nEarly in the morning Hatim-Thai repaired to the designated place. He\nate, he drank, and when he had finished his repast he tied his horse\nnear by. Then, covering his head with a cloth, he fell fast asleep. At\nthis very moment the wicked Bedouin arrived. By the will of God, just\nas he was about to assassinate the young man, a thought came into his\nheart. \"Hatim-Thai is celebrated throughout the whole world for his\ngenerosity and his benevolence. Before I kill him, while he is still\nalive, I want to see his face.\" And he raised the cloth that covered\nhis head. At the sight of the countenance of the sleeping young man he\nfell at his feet and covered them with kisses, saying: \"O my friend!\nWhat have you done? You ought not to act thus!\"\n\nHearing these words of the Bedouin, the young man said: \"What could I\ndo? For the one called Hatim-Thai is I. The head that the King of Yemen\nwants is mine. What other means could I employ?\" He conducted the\nBedouin to his house, regaled him again, and gave him all he needed.\n\nThen the Bedouin took leave and returned to his country. As soon as he\narrived in Yemen, he went before the King and recounted all the\ncircumstances relative to Hatim-Thai.\n\nHaving heard the story the King shed tears, and said: \"Of a truth,\nHatim-Thai is liberal, benevolent, and noble, brave and generous.\"\nAfterward the King of Yemen made a friendship with Hatim-Thai that\nlasted as long as his life.\n\nWhen the Sultan Yakoub invaded Khorassan and besieged the capital, the\nSultan Mahomet, shut up in the city, made such a strong resistance that\nfor a long time it was impossible to capture the place. But his\nministers betrayed him by sending to Sultan Yakoub letters which showed\nhow it might be taken. One only of these ministers, named Ibrahim\nHadjib, abstained from sending any traitorous letters, and remained\nfaithful to his master. After a while the city was taken and Sultan\nYakoub ascended the throne. Then all the most important people of the\ncountry came to pay homage to him. The ministers who had betrayed the\nformer Sultan were conspicuous in their demonstrations of joy. The\nSultan Yakoub gave a pleasant reception to those who came, and made\nthem suitable gifts.\n\nAfter this he asked, \"Who has not come to present himself before me on\nthis day of rejoicing?\"\n\nThe ministers immediately answered, \"Ibrahim Hadjib is the only one who\nhas not come to present his congratulations.\"\n\nThen the Sultan asked, \"Why has he not done so? Is he ill?\"\n\n\"No,\" they answered, \"he is not ill.\"\n\nThe Sultan summoned Ibrahim Hadjib, and the latter came into the royal\npresence. The Sultan, observing on his countenance evident marks of\ncare and sorrow, spoke thus to him: \"Ibrahim Hadjib, are you the\nminister in whom the Sultan Mahomet placed his confidence?\" He replied\nin the affirmative.\n\n\"From what motive, Ibrahim Hadjib, did you keep silence, and send me no\nword of advice while the ministers of Sultan Mahomet, now here, sent\nmany letters to show me how to capture the city? Why did you refrain\nfrom appearing before me at court to-day, at the same time with the\nministers and grandees? Why, now that you are here, are you the only\none to wear a sad and mournful appearance and a long face, while all\nthe others show their joy? To all these questions you must truthfully\nrespond. And if you speak not the truth you shall be put to death.\"\n\n\"If the Sultan wishes to hear the language of truth and will not be\nvexed by it, I will reply to each of his questions. To the first\nquestion, why I sent no letter betraying my King, I will say: Know,\nSultan, that the Sultan Mahomet was the King of this country; that he\ngave me many presents and had full confidence in me, thinking that in\nthe moment of danger I would be his companion and his counsellor. How\ncould I, then, betray him? I knew you not, and had received no benefits\nfrom you. Would it have been just for me to send you letters and cause\nthe fall of one who had been so bountiful to me?\"\n\n\"Your words are just and true,\" said the Sultan Yakoub.\n\nIbrahim Hadjib continued: \"As to the question why I abstained from\npresenting myself at court to-day, and why I wore so sorrowful a face,\nI answer: Know that I could not present myself before the Sultan,\nbecause he was the enemy of my master and benefactor, and brought about\nthe ruin of my lord. That is why I wore a sad face in your presence.\nBeside, the children and grandchildren of my lord are plunged in grief\nand anxiety, and how could I be happy in your presence, like these\nhypocrites, who are very different elsewhere? I have told the truth.\"\n\nWhen the Sultan Yakoub had heard these words of Ibrahim Hadjib, he\ncried: \"God be praised! Up to this time I have heard tell of ministers,\nI have seen many kinds, but never have I seen nor heard of a minister\nlike this one. Now, only for the first time have I seen a true minister\nand listened to the words of truth.\" The Sultan Yakoub loaded Ibrahim\nHadjib with favors, made him prime minister, and gave him the name of\nfather. As for the other ministers, he caused them to perish, with\ntheir whole families. Then he published this proclamation:\n\n\"Behold the fate of those who are faithless to their promises and\ncommit treason toward their King, for they cannot be counted as men.\"","title":"Malayan Literature: Comprising Romantic Tales, Epic Poetry and Royal Chronicles","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":62977}