Malayan Literature Part 5

No name is seen, and all the gates are shut, So that we could not enter."

Scarce the King Had heard the _mantri's_ word when off he rushed To see the fair domain. Before the gate He stood astonished. "Truly, _mantris_ mine, It is as you have said. I once was here And then the wood was filled with thorns and briers."

"'Tis not a n.o.bleman's _campong_. It must Have recently been made. Now summon all The _mantris_ here and see what they will say."

They called aloud, "Oh, hasten, friends, and bring The water here." Seven times they called, but none Responded. Said the King, "It is enough.

'Tis like as if one called unto the dead."

"We'd best not enter," said the _mantris_ then, "It may be the abode of demons fell.

We are afraid. Why should we linger here?

Return, O King, for should the spirits come It might to us bring evil. Thou shouldst not Expose thyself to danger." But the King Upon the _mantris_ smiled. "Ye are afraid Of demons, spectres, spirits? I've no fear.

Break down the barriers. I'll go alone Within the precincts." When the gates were forced, He entered all alone. The _mantris_ all Were terrified lest harm should come to him.

They sought with him to go. He lightly said: "No, _mantris_ mine, whatever G.o.d hath willed, Must happen. If in flames I were to burn, In G.o.d I still should trust. 'Tis only He That evil can avert. We mortal men No power possess. With my own eyes I wish To see this apparition. Should it be The will of G.o.d, I'll come forth safe and sound.

Be not disturbed. In case of urgent need I'll call upon ye. All await me here."

The _mantris_ made obeisance and replied, "Go, then, alone, since thou hast willed it so."

Into the plaisance strode the King. He saw That all was like a temple richly decked, With rugs of silk and colored tapestries Of pictured clouds and wheels all radiant, And lamps and candelabra hung about, And lanterns bright. 'Twas like a palace rich.

The eyes were dazzled with magnificence.

And seats there were, and dainty tables rare.

As through the palace went the King, the more Astonished he became at all he saw, But nowhere found a trace of human soul.

Then spake the little bird: "Ill.u.s.trious King, What seek'st thou here? This mansion is the house Of ghosts and demons who will injure thee."

The King was filled with wonder thus to hear A bird address him. But it flew away, And hid behind a couch. "The bird I'll find,"

He said, and ope'd the curtains soft. He saw Full stretched, upon a bed in dragon's shape, A human form, in heavy-lidded sleep That seemed like death, and covered with a cloth Of blue, whose face betokened deepest grief.

"Is it a child celestial?" thought the King, "Or doth she feign to sleep? Awake, my sweet, And let us be good friends and lovers true."

So spake the King, but still no motion saw.

He sat upon the couch, and to himself He said: "If it a phantom be, why are The eyes so firmly shut? Perhaps she's dead.

She truly is of origin divine, Though born a princess." Then he lifted high The covering delicate that hid the form Of Bidasari sweet, and stood amazed At all the magic beauty of her face.

Beside himself, he cried, "Awake, my love."

He lifted her and said, with kisses warm, "Oh, have no fear of me, dear heart. Thy voice Oh, let me hear, my gold, my ruby pure, My jewel virginal. Thy soul is mine.

Again he pressed her in his arms, and gave Her many kisses, chanting love-songs low.

"Thou dost not wake, O dearest one, but thou Art yet alive, because I see thee breathe.

Sleep not too long, my love. Awake to me, For thou hast conquered with thy loveliness My heart and soul." So fell the King in love With Bidasari. "Ah, my sweet," he said, "In all the world of love thou'rt worthiest."

The _mantris_ grew uneasy at his stay.

They rose and said: "What doth the King so long?

If harm befell him, what would be our fate?

Oh, let us call him back at once, my lords."

So one approached the palace, and cried out: "Return, O prince accomplished, to us now.

Already night is near. Back thou may'st come To-morrow ere the dawn. We are afraid Lest spirits harm thee. Come, O King, for we A-hungered are, and wait for thy return."

But the ill.u.s.trious prince was mad with love Of Bidasari. Pensively he cried: "Branch of my heart, light of mine eyes, my love, Pure gold, thou'rt like angel. Now must I Depart. To-morrow I will come again."

With no more words he left her, but returned.

"My heart would tell me, wert thou really dead.

Some trouble hast thou, dearest one?" he cried.

"What bitter grief hath caused thee thus to sleep?"

He found the n.o.bles murmuring and vexed.

"O King," they said, "our hearts were filled with fear Lest evil had befallen thee. What sight So strange hath kept thee all these hours?" The King Replied with laughter, "There was naught to see."

But they remarked his brow o'ercast with thought, And said, "O King, thy heart is sorely vexed."

"Nay, nay," the King replied, "I fell asleep.

Naught did I hear except the _mantri's*_ voice.

It surely is the home of demons dread And spirits. Let us go, lest they surprise Us here." He seemed much moved. "We naught have gained But weariness. So let us all go home To-night, and hither come again at dawn.

For I a promise gave the Queen to bring A fawn and a _kidjang_." The _mantris_ said: "None have we taken yet. But game we'll find To-morrow, and will save a pretty fawn."

The King, when they returned, went straight within The palace. There he saw the Queen, but thought Of Bidasari. "O my love," he said, "To-morrow I'm resolved to hunt again, And bring thee back a fawn, and win thy thanks.

I'm never happy when away from thee, My dearest love. Thine image is engraved Upon my heart." Then he caressed the Queen And fondled her, but still his heart went out To Bidasari. All night long his eyes He did not close in sleep, but thought of her, In all her beauty rare. Before the dawn The royal couple rose. The King then gave Command that those who wished should hunt again With him. At sunrise forth they fared.

On Bidasari let us look again.

When night had gone, in loneliness she rose, And ate and drank. Then to the bath perfumed She went, and coming to her chamber, took Some _siri_ from the betel-box. She saw A _sepah_ recently in use and cast It forth. She thought within herself: "Who could have used it? Someone hath been here."

She ran through all the rooms, but nothing found Except the _sepah_ in the betel-box.

"Had it my father been, he would have left Some food for me. Oh, he is very rash To leave me here alone." Upon the couch She sat and wept, and could not tell her grief To anyone. "When we no longer may Live happily," she said, "'tis best to die.

My parents never can forgiven be, To leave me here like any infidel.

And if I suffer, they will sorrow, too."

The _minahs_, the _bajans_, and talking birds Began to sing. She took a 'broidered cloth, And 'neath its folds she sweetly fell asleep.

The King's horse flew apace to the _campong_ Of Bidasari. All the _mantris_ said: "Thou takest not the path for hunting, sire; This is but the _campong_ of demons dread And spectres. They may do us deadly harm."

The great prince only laughed, and made as if

He heard not, still directing his fleet course To Bidasari's garden, though they sought His wishes to oppose. When they arrived Before the palisades, the _mantris_ cried: "Avaunt, ye cursed demons, and begone Into the thorns and briers." Then to the King: "If thou wilt prove the courage of thy men, Lead us behind the barriers, among The evil spirits. We will go with thee."

"Nay. Let me go alone," the prince replied, "And very shortly I'll come forth again."

They said: "O prince, to us thy will is law.

To G.o.d most high do we commend thy soul."

Alone the prince in Bidasari's home Set foot. He was astonished, for he saw the bath Had recently been used, and all the lamps Were trimmed and full of oil. Then opening The chests, he saw the traces of a meal, And gla.s.ses freshly drained. The chambers all He searched, and came to Bidasari's couch, And, lifting up the curtains, saw her there, Asleep beneath the 'broidered covering.

"Tis certain that she lives," he said. "Perchance It is her lot to live at night, and die At dawn." Then came he nearer yet, and gazed Upon her beauty. Ling'ring tears he saw Bedewed her lashes long, and all his heart Was sad. Her face was beautiful. Her locks Framed * with curls most gracefully. He took Her in his arms and cried, with kisses warm: "Why hast thou suffered, apple of my eye?"

He wept abundantly, and said: "My gold, My ruby, my carbuncle bright, thy face Is like Lila Seprara's, and thy birth Is pure and spotless. How could I not love A being fair as thou dost seem to me?

Thy beauty is unspeakable; thou art Above all crowns, the glory of all lands.

My soul adores thee. Lord am I no more Of my own heart. Without thee, love, I could No longer live; thou art my very soul.

Hast thou no pity to bestow on me?"

The more he looked the more he loved. He kissed Her ruby lips, and sang this low _pantoum_:

SONG

Within a vase there stands a china rose; Go buy a box of betel, dearest one.

I love the beauty that thine eyes disclose; Of my existence, dear, thou art the sun.

Go buy a box of betel, dearest one.

Adorned with _sountings_ brave of sweet _campak_, Of my existence, dear, thou art the sun; Without thee, everything my life would lack.

Adorned with _sountings_ fair of sweet _campak_, A carafe tall will hold the sherbet rare; Without thee, everything my heart would lack; Thou'rt like an angel come from heaven so fair.

A carafe tall will hold the sherbet rare, Most excellent for woman's feeble frame.

Thou'rt like an angel come from heaven so fair, Love's consolation, guardian of its flame.

At the approach of night the _mantris_ said, "What doth the King so long away from us?"

They were disturbed, the prince seemed so unlike Himself and filled with such unrestfulness.

"I fear me much," then said a _mantri_ there, "That some mishap hath overwhelmed the King.

Perhaps by some bad spirit he's possessed, That he to this weird spot should fain return."

One went and cried: "Come hither, O our King!

The day declines; we've waited here since dawn."

The King responded to the call, and came With smiling face, though pale, unto the gate: "Come here, my uncle; come and talk with me, Thy King. No evil thing hath come to pa.s.s."

"O lord supreme, most worthy prince, return.

If harm should come to thee, we all should die."

"Be calm, my uncle, I will not this night Return, but he may stay with me who wills."

"O King, with spirits what hast thou to do?

Thy face is pale and worn, and tells of care."