Malayan Literature Part 6

The King but sighed, and said: "My heart is full Of trouble, but the will of G.o.d is good.

Here yesterday a fair celestial form With angel face I saw. 'Twas here alone."

And so the King told all that had occurred.

"Go back," he added. "Leave me here with her.

Say to the Queen I've lingered still a day For my amus.e.m.e.nt, with my retinue."

Then half the escort stayed, and half repaired Back to the palace to acquaint the Queen The King would stay another day and hunt.

When all was dark, sweet Bidasari waked And saw the King, and tried to flee away.

He seized and kissed her. "Ruby, gold," he said, "My soul, my life, oh, say, where wouldst thou go?

I've been alone with thee for two whole days, And all the day thou wrapped in sleep didst lie.

Where wouldst thou go, my dove?" The gentle girl Was much afraid and trembled, and she thought: "Is it a spirit come to find me here?

Avaunt thee and begone, O spectre dread,"

She said, amid her tears. "No phantom I,"

Replied the King; "be not afraid. I wish To marry thee." Then Bidasari strove Again to flee. Then sang the King a song That told of love and happiness. Its words Astonished Bidasari, and she cried: "Art thou a pirate? Why dost thou come here?

Speak not such things to me. If thou shouldst be Discovered by my father, he would cut Thee into pieces. Thou shouldst go alone To death, and find no pardon in his heart.

Take all my gems and hasten forth at once."

The King replied: "'Tis not thy gems I want, But thee. I am a pirate, but thy heart Is all I want to steal. Should spectres come In thousands, I would fear them not at all.

No tears, my love, bright glory of my crown.

Where wouldst thou go? Hast thou no pity, sweet, For me? I am a powerful prince. Who dares Oppose my will? Pure gold, all virginal, Where wouldst thou go?" So spake the King, and fair Young Bidasari trembled more and more.

"Approach me not," she cried, "but let me bathe My face." "I'll bathe it for thee, dear," he said.

But Bidasari threw the water pure Into his face. "Not that way, child," he laughed; "My vesture thou hast wet. But I shall stay And meet thy parents here. Oh, hearken, love.

I followed far the chase, and wandered here.

I sought a pretty fawn to take the Queen; But now thy face I've seen, no more I wish To go away. Oh, have no fear, my child; I would not harm thee. When thy parents come, I'll ask them for thy hand. I trust they'll grant My prayer. I'll lead thee forth from this fair spot Unto my palace. Thou shalt sit beside The Queen, and live in happiness complete."

Sweet Bidasari bowed her head and wept, All red with modesty. Unto herself she said: "I never thought it was a king. How rude I was! I hope the King will not be vexed."

He calmed her fears with tender words of love.

"Branch of my heart," he said, "light of my eyes, Have no more fear. Soon as thy parents fond Have given their consent, I'll lead thee forth.

My palace is not far. A single day Will take us there. It is not difficult To go and come." Then Bidasari knew It was the King of that same land. With fright She nearly swooned at thought of all the woe The Queen had caused her. "O my lord," she said, "I'm but a subject humble. Give me not The throne. I have my parents, and with them Must stay." The King was overjoyed. "My dear,"

He said, "by what names are thy parents known?"

With low, sweet voice the tender girl replied: "Lila Djouhara is my father's name.

He dwelleth in Pesara." "Dearest one, Tell me the truth. Why have they treated thee In such a fashion--why abandoned thee In solitude? Thy father is not poor A merchant rich is he, of birth, who hath A host of slaves and servants. For what cause Hath he his daughter left in this far spot?

He is renowned among the merchants all, Both good and honest. What hath forced him here Within this lonely wood to hide thee, dear?

Oh, tell me all; let nothing be concealed."

She thought: "It was the fault of his own Queen.

But if I tell him all--he never saw Me there, within the palace--should he not Believe, I'll be a liar in his eyes."

She feared to speak and tell him of the Queen.

She thought, "So cruel was the Queen to me When she but feared a rival, what would come If I should sit beside her on the throne?"

Then in her sweet voice Bidasari said: "My glorious King, I am afraid to speak.

I am not suited to a royal throne.

But since thou lovest me, how dare I lie?

If thou dost favor me, the Queen will vex Her heart. My parents fear her. 'Tis the cause Why hither they have brought me. Three long months Ago I came, for terror of the Queen."

She thought on all the horror of those days, And choked with sobs, and could no longer talk.

Then tenderly the King spake to the girl: "Ah, well, my darling love, confide in me The secret thy dear heart conceals. Fear naught; The Queen is good and wise, and knoweth how To win all hearts. Why should she render thee Unhappy? Speak not thus, my pretty one; The Queen could never do an evil deed.

When thou art near her, thou shalt see, my dear, Whether she loves or hates thee."

At these words Young Bidasari knew the King esteemed The Queen, and felt her heart sink in her breast.

"My words are true," she said, "but still perchance My prince cannot believe. But was I not Within thy palace six or seven nights?

The sweat of pain became my couch, so great Was my desire to see my parents dear.

They sent me dainties, but all the _dyangs_ Were kept as prisoners by the princess there.

She said she'd take me back herself. One day I was, indeed, sent home, but scarce alive."

She told him everything that came to pa.s.s.

He listened stupefied, and said: "How could It be that thou wert in the palace hid, And I not see thee there? Why was it thou Wert not beside the Queen? I've never left The palace for a single day. Where wert Thou hid? Thy strange words I believe, my dear.

Speak without fear and let me know the whole."

Urged by the King, young Bidasari told Him all. And when the conduct of the Queen He learned, the King was wonder-struck. A rage Most terrible possessed him. But his love For Bidasari mounted higher still And his compa.s.sion. "So the Queen thus wrought!

I never thought hypocrisy could be So great! I never in the princess saw Such bent for evil. But be not, my dear, Disconsolate. It is a lucky thing Thou didst not quite succ.u.mb. No longer speak Of that bad woman's ways. Thank G.o.d we've met!

So weep no more, my love. I'll give to thee A throne more beautiful than hers, and be Thy dear companion until death." "O King,"

She said: "I have no beauty fit to grace A throne. Oh, let me stay a simple maid, And think of me no more." The King replied: "I will not give thee up. But I must still Return, and meditate how I may win Thee back to life complete." With kisses warm He covered her fair face. She bowed her head, And silence kept; and when the morning dawned She swooned anew. It was a proof to him That she had told the truth. A mortal hate Then filled the prince's heart against the Queen.

Touched with deep pity for the maiden young, He kissed her once again, and left her there, So white and still, as if she lay in death.

What of the _mantris_? They awaited long The King, in silence. Then the oldest said: "O sovereign lord, O caliph great, wilt thou Not now return?" "I'll come again, dear heart,"

He said, and sought the city. Straight he went Into the palace, to the Queen, who asked: "What bringest thou from hunting?" He replied In murmurs: "I have taken naught at all.

For my own pleasure I remained all night."

"'Tis nothing, lord, provided no harm came To thee. But say what thou didst seek, to stay So long? I always have prepared for thee The food for thy great hunts, but never yet Have I received a recompense?" The King To this replied with smiles: "Prepare afresh, For I to-morrow shall depart again.

If I take nothing, I'll return at once."

As he caressed the Queen, upon her breast He felt the little magic fish of gold All safe. Then gave he quick commands to all.

"I'll hunt to-morrow, and shall surely bring Some wondrous game." Now when the princess fell Asleep he found upon her heart no more The little fish. "'Tis as the maiden said,"

He thought. "The princess hath a wicked soul.

With such a heart I cannot go with her Through life." Through all the night he could not sleep, But thought upon the girl. He was as sad As though he heard a touching song. At dawn The royal couple rose and went to bathe.

The King into the palace came again And sat upon the throne adorned with gems.

He donned the royal robe to wear before The dear young girl. A vestment 'twas of silk, All gold embroidered, with a tunic bright, Of orange hue. His mien was most superb, As doth become a mighty king. He bore A quiver of Ceylon, most deftly wrought.

When all the _mantris_ had a.s.sembled there, The King within the palace once more went And met the Queen. Caressing her he took The little fish that lay upon her breast.

The princess wept, and at the door she cried: "Why takest thou my little ornament?"

The great King gave no heed, and went away, At dawn's glad hour, when birds begin to sing.

Swords gleamed and lances shone, and through the wood They hastened on, with quivers and blow-guns, And seemed a walking city.

Now again To Bidasari let us turn. When dawn Appeared, she rose and sat in loneliness, Her face grew still more beautiful. Her state Astonished her. "Perhaps it is the King Who hath this wonder wrought. How happy I To be no longer dead!" She washed her face And felt still sad, but with her pensiveness A certain joy was mingled, for her pain Was pa.s.sed. Her grief the "talking bird" allayed With songs about the mighty King and love.

SONG

There's _siri_ in a golden vase, Good Dang Melini plants a rose; The King admires a pretty face, To-day he'll come to this fair close.

Good Dang Melini plants a rose, Here in the garden they will meet; To-day he'll come to this fair close, To man and maiden love is sweet.

Here in the garden they will meet, Go seek the fairest fruit and flower; To man and maiden love is sweet, The King is coming to the bower.

Lo! At this very instant they approached.

Dear Bidasari hid behind the couch.

The King searched everywhere, and found at last The maiden hiding, bathed in bitter tears.

Then kissing her, the King inquired: "My love, Bright glory of my crown; pray tell to me Why thou art sad." He dried her tears. But she Still hung her head in silence. Then the King For elephants and horses to be sent Gave orders. "Go with _mantris_ two at once, And bring the merchant and his wife, and bid Forty _dyangs_ to hasten here forthwith."

Then went the _mantris_ forth in haste, and found The merchant and his wife and said, "The King Inviteth ye to come." Then through the wood The parents hurried to the plaisance fair Of Bidasari, there to meet the King.

Before his Majesty they bowed with fear.

The great King smiled. "Be not afraid," he said, "My uncle and my mother. Let us go Within, to see thy lovely child. I make Ye now my parents. We have friendly been, And still shall be." Beside the King they saw Fair Bidasari seated, as with steps Still hesitating they the palace sought.

The father fond was glad within his heart, His daughter was so beautiful. She seemed A princess lovely of the Mount Lidang.

"Dear Bidasari, sweetest child," they said, "Behind the King, dear daughter, thou should stand."

She made as if to go, but still the King Restrained her, "No, my pretty one," he said; "Thy place is at my side. So G.o.d hath willed."

The oldest _mantri_, called for counsel, spoke: "Lila Djouhara good, what sayest thou?

Art thou not glad to see thy daughter made A queen? What happiness hath come to thee!"

The merchant bowed before the King, and said: "Make her thy servant, not thy wife, my lord.

Thy glorious Queen we fear. She e'er hath shown For Bidasari hatred dire, because A child so lovely might attract the King."

The monarch hearing him thus speak, still more Toward him was borne. "My uncle," then he cried, "Have no more fear. But never shall I make A servant of thy daughter."

Then he gave Command to build a castle in the wood.