Malayan Literature, Song VI

The laksimana mantri now I'll sing, Who went upon the embassy. As soon As the great King of Kembajat had news Of his arrival, he was much rejoiced. He told the Queen, and in the audience-hall Awaited. Then went forth the officers With elephants and payongs. A countless throng Attended them, with music and with flags. They met the embassy, and, with rich gifts, They gave the King's commands. Into the town Then entered all. The King was very glad, As if his only daughter had returned. All bowed before the King, who took the gifts, While servants took the letter to the chief Of mantris. And he gave it to the King, The monarch read, and was possessed with joy. He could not thank enough the merchant good, Who raised his daughter to a royal throne. He wished forthwith to go and see his child. The letter cordial invitation gave. But one thing troubled him: "He straight inquired, 'Hath not the prince, my son, the liberty To come back home?'" The laksimana bowed And said: "The King wished not to let him come And begged with tears that he would stay. The Queen Feared if her brother went she'd never see Her father. From your children both I bring Warm greetings. Kind indulgence from your heart They ask, and press their invitation. I Crave pardon for myself, O King, and hope Thy children dear may see their father's face, And that the kingdoms may become one realm." At these words smiled the King. "Ah, well!" he said, "I'll wait for seven days still." Then questions flew, And the great king learned all about his child.

The Indrapura mantris went apart When evening came. A separate palace grand The King assigned them, with the best of food. He orders gave for preparations great. Unto the Queen he said: "In seven days' time, My dear, I look to start, for I shall have No peace until I've seen our darling child." Then he assembled there his mantris all, Both young and old, with elephants and steeds. And all was ready to set forth, as he had wished. The while the morning stars were twinkling still, The royal gong resounded many times. The guards leaped forth with joy. The officers Came out and took their shining helms of war. Their naked swords all glistened. It was thus They made the glittering royal cavalcade. Their flags and banners flaunted in the air, All those who stayed behind were sad, as if A knife had cut them. All together marched, The lancers and the horsemen, and they seemed A moving city. Soon all darkened was The moon, as someone sorrowful. The swords And lances glistened like an island in The middle of the sea. Thus is described The royal escort marching through the land. The King was mounted on an elephant, His siri-bearer seated close behind. A rich payong of royalty, all tricked With bells, was stretched above his head, And drums and other instruments without Cessation sounded. Thus went forth the King, And soon to Indrapura came.

When near He halted and forthwith an envoy sent His coming to announce, together with The laksimana mantri. "Mighty King," They said, "thy royal father hath arrived." The King his heralds ordered then to call Lila Mengindra. With a smile he said To him: "Assemble in the square the folk And army. Straight to my pavilion let Them come, and all in holiday attire, For I my father am to meet to-day." Lila Mengindra bowed and hied him forth To execute the orders of the King. The King within his palace went, and sat Upon a jewelled seat. The Queen was there, And good Lila Mengindra at her side. The King said smilingly: "Light of my eyes, Let all the palace decorated be. Assemble all the palace folk and all The younger girls. For now without the gates Our parents wait. To-morrow I shall go To meet them." Then Queen Bidasari cried, With smiles: "My brother they have come to see. I cannot go before them and declare Myself their daughter." But the young prince said: "Oh, speak not thus, my sister, but give heed To what I say to thee, and be not wroth. If I'm the only one they love, alone I'll go with them away." Then to the King He said: "With my dear sister I but jest, To quiet her alarms." He bowed before the King And asked permission forth to go at once To meet his father. "Nay," replied the King, "We'll go together." A repast was served With every kind of food. The royal three Together ate. Then from the betel-box They siri took, and perfumes sweet they used. The prince then from the palace forth did go. Next day the King invited him to start With him upon the royal progress. All The banners waved, and everyone was glad. Then to the Queen he said: "Stay here, my love, And I will hither bring thy father dear." These words rejoiced the Queen. She said: "Go forth, My dear, and I will follow with my eyes." The King then took his leave with the young prince, With many mantris following. The strains Of gladsome music sounded. All the bells Were rung, and those without the cavalcade Were sad.

Ere long they came to the frontier, And King met King. The folk of Kembajat Were all astonished at the young King's face, As beautiful as painter's masterpiece. The old King looked with smiles on all. His joy Was great. The King of Indrapura bowed Respectfully, and made them bring to him The elephant that bore 'neath gay payong His consort's father. "Son, where goest thou?" "I've come to seek thee." Then the old King said: "Why didst thou come in person? 'Twould have been Enough if thou hadst mantris sent instead." His joy o'erflowed his heart. His son-in-law He greatly loved. Upon his elephant He said: "Approach, my son, thou art a king Renowned. Thy body and thy soul are both Alike, and both of royal stock!" He pressed Him in his arms and said: "Light of my eyes, Almighty God hath heard my many prayers, And granted me a perfect son-in-law." The King of Indrapura bowed and smiled Most graciously. Then to the young prince said His father: "Mount, my son, beside me, here." The young prince mounted at his father's side. He was as beautiful as chiselled gold.

Within the town the kings made entry then Amid a joyous throng. When they had come, The former merchant bowed before them both, The mangkouboumi now. The mighty King Of Indrapura bowed and said: "My sire, Speak to my uncle here; for he brought up Thy daughter." Scarcely had the old King heard These words than he exclaimed with joy: "Come here, My brother, let us now acquaintance make." The old King, seated on his elephant, Shed all about him rays of happiness, And all the people there were greatly moved. "This is my brother well beloved," he said, And kissed his brow. "How great hath been his love, His faithfulness has proved beyond compare." The former merchant bowed, and to the King Replied: "I am thy slave, O King, and bear Thine orders on my head. Thou dost o'erwhelm Thy servant with thy favor." Then upon The royal throne, which was all gem-bedecked, The old King sat, the young prince at his side, With all the mantris near. Then came the Queen Consort. The prince and Bidasari fair Came from their seats, their mother to receive. All entered then the palace. The young Queen, Fair Bidasari, bowed and was embraced By both her parents. With a flood of tears Her father said: "Alas, my darling child, Fruit of my heart, light of my eyes, keep not A hatred in thy soul against us now. The will of God is now made manifest. We long have separated been. At last We see each other with our very eyes. Great wrong we did thus to abandon thee, But still let not thy heart a stranger be To us. Peace later came to our dear land— Such was our destiny. What could we do? We were in flight. We thought, 'May God decree Some honorable man shall find her here!' How can we now be glad enough 'twas thus Ordained! What recompense can we present?" Sweet Bidasari wept as she recalled The past. The King her husband was much moved, And felt great pity when her tears he saw. And all were sad with sorrow mixed with joy, Because they knew she was of royal birth. Food now was served, and quickly the dyangs Brought salvers for the princes. The two kings Ate of the rice till they were surfeited, Then to their children offered it. All took The siri placed before them, and straightway Themselves anointed with rare perfumes sweet. When all had eaten, the five royal ones Lila Mengindra called, and gave to him The remnants of the feast. The kings then spoke To him and to his wife. They both bowed low And kissed the royal hands. Then said the King Of Kembajat: "My children, I had planned— In case we ever met on earth and ere The prey of death became—a feast to give, To last a month, and to it ye invite. In triumph I my daughter fain would bear, With all of ye. I would at once repair Unto the isle of Nousa Antara, And there I'd hold a royal festival With all the members of our family, And all the bitis, mandars, and dyangs. Such was my plan—if ever I should find My daughter dear. Now while this moon doth last Let me the project see fulfilled before Your parents come to die."

The gracious King Of Indrapura at these words bowed low And said: "I bear thy words upon my head. It shall be done as thou hast wished, my King." And when the evening came all was prepared. Soft mattresses were spread, and the two queens Betook them to their chambers, and the rich Egyptian curtains fell. They vainly sought to sleep. They talked together of their sorrows past And evil days. And neither kings nor queens That night could slumber.

At the break of day The talking bird began to sing and prate. A little later the bajangs began Their song. Then all arose, and bathed, and broke Their fast, and chattered and amused themselves. The King of Indrapura then gave word Unto the mangkouboumi: "All prepare That's necessary, ere the moon be full. Get ready all the various kinds of ships, And load them down with every sort of arms. Prepare all sorts of games to pass the time, And get in order all the cannons great And fire-arms. Thus the King commands."

Straightway The mangkouboumi bowed before the King, And went his orders to obey. He made The ships all ready, with new paint and gold. When three were well equipped, on board he took The people of the city. All the old Were left behind, but of the young none stayed. Then to the King the mangkouboumi said, "All is prepared." At this the King rejoiced, And to the King of Kembajat sent word, Who told his wife, and she was all aglow. They started from the palace, kings and queen And prince, and lovely Bidasari, too, Attended by the courtiers all. The strains Of music sounded and the bells were rung. All those whose lot it was to stay at home Were pained, as if a knife had stricken them. The cannons roared; the royal banners waved.

In three days' sail they reached the island fair, Of Nousa Antara, and the ships made fast. The two queens sat and watched the deft dyangs Take up the coral white and pink, and toyed With pretty shells. The King set foot upon The isle of Nousa Antara. The King And his dear wife upon the shore came forth, With their sweet daughter Bidasari pure. The King of Indrapura with them went, The prince walked near them on the left.

The King Of Indrapura ordered that a tent Be raised, and one was made. It was as large As any palace, set with royal throne. The two queens entered it and sought repose. The prince before his father bowed and said, "My royal father, let me go and hunt." To this the King of Kembajat replied, "Do what thou dost desire, light of my eyes." The King of Indrapura said with smiles, "I'll go with thee to hunt, my brother dear." The prince replied, "I shall in truth be charmed, My brother." "Forth we'll fare to-morrow morn," Returned the King of Indrapura. "Call The folk together."

When the dawn appeared, The King and prince together started forth, Escorted by a band of hunters tried, And beat the woods for game. The King and prince And all their following made rapid work. The game took flight. The King then drew his bow And many animals were killed. A deer Came running by. His arrow struck him full Upon the shoulder, and the huntsmen seized And quickly killed him. In the pathless woods Of Nousa Antara there was much game. A tiger roared, the King and prince pursued. The tiger swiftly fled. The prince sat down Within the forest deep. To overtake The beast he was unable. To return He sought, but could not find the way. Alone He was, and in perplexity, because His huntsmen he no longer could descry. Then, wandering to and fro, he found at last A pleasure garden of the days gone by, Belonging to King Lila, beautiful And without flaw. He was astonished quite When he perceived a palace. All alone He found himself, when he had entered there. He walked about, but found no living soul. Unto himself he said: "Can this domain A habitation be of demons dread And spirits? Can this be the cause of all The solitude which reigns?" On all sides then He looked. All suddenly a voice he heard, But still no one could see. Amazed he stood. The mystic voice exclaimed, "Have pity, lord, And free me from this room." As in a dream The prince these accents heard. He answered then: "Who art thou? Whose strange voice is this I hear, The while I no one see? Dost thou belong Unto the race of demons and of spectres? Where is the key, that I may ope the door?" Then the dyang of Mendoudari said Unto the prince: "Look toward the left, for there The key thou'lt find that opes the palace tower." He took the key and opened wide the door. All those who were within, when they beheld The prince's face, fell prostrate at his feet. To them the prince cried out: "Say to what race Ye do belong. This quickly tell. And whose This palace beautiful?" Then answered him Dang Tjindra Melini: "O Royal prince, We are God's creatures, like to thee. And this Fair palace of the King Lila is now By Ifrid occupied, a spirit-king, With whom now lives the prince illustrious, Lila. His daughter, Princess Mendoudari, Is shut alone within a chamber here, And Ifrid, king of spirits, cometh oft. On every third day cometh he. His eyes Are brilliant as the sun." When this he heard The prince was glad. The room he entered then. The Princess Mendoudari sought to flee. "Where wouldst thou go, my friend," he said. "I've sought And found thee. Do not flee away from me." The Princess Mendoudari said with tears: "And art thou mad enough hither to come? The spirits will destroy thee without doubt." These words rejoiced the prince, and to her then He sang a low sweet song of love and wooing. The princess answered with a dreamy chant. And when the young prince heard her gentle lay He felt a yearning pity for her fate. "Be not afraid, my dear," he said, "for I Will triumph over all thine enemies." Then Dang Sendari served them dainty food; And what was left, to her the princess gave. The prince too siri from the betel-box And rare sweet perfumes used. When evening came, A soft couch for the prince was spread. And then The princess sought her room, and curtains drew Of rich Egyptian stuff. The prince had asked, "When comes the spirit-king?" And she had said, "At early dawn." The young prince could not sleep, But through the long night hours sang soft pantoums. When daylight came the prince arose. He heard A spirit coming to the palace. Then with fear Was seized the princess fair. "Behold," she cried, "He cometh." Then the young prince took his arms. "Fear not," he said; "have confidence in God. What he decrees must always come to pass. If I'm destroyed, then follow me in death. I only ask one thing of thee, my love. When I am dead, I pray thee weep for me, And let thy mantle be my winding-sheet. Now let thy glances follow as I go."

I'll tell of Ifrid now—the spirit-king. He lurked beneath the palace. When he heard The princess talking with the prince his ire Arose like burning flame. His cry was like A thunder-burst. The very palace shook. "Depart from here," unto the prince he roared, "And feel my mighty power." Then sweet love-songs Exchanging with the princess went he forth. His mien was like Sang Samba's, and his face Was nobly firm, as if he went to meet A roaring tiger. At his side he wore A rare carbuncled sword, and arrows bore With points in deadly poison dipped. Ifrid, The creature with two heads, like spectre came With laughter horrid. He took up a stone And hurled it at the prince, who dodged its flight. Then full of wrath Ifrid upon him rushed. But swift the prince let fly an arrow sharp, And pierced his heart. One groan, and then he fell, And died beside the river. Then the prince Made haste to join the princess.

When she saw The spirit Ifrid dead she much rejoiced And bowed before the prince. Great gladness shone In her fair face, because her woe had ceased, And she was happy that 'twas to the prince She owed her rescue. 'Twas as if she'd found A mountain great of jewels. Then she said: "Caliph a high divinity once was And called himself King Lila. God will bless Thee for thy deeds, O mighty prince."

The prince With kisses said: "Thou hast a charming mouth. Thy form is supple. Prithee tell me why I should not love thee? Thou art beautiful As a statue of pure gold, and thou shalt be A princess in my palace. Well I know Thine origin is noble, and thy race Is high." They gayly chatted while some food Was served. The prince, with pleasure, at the side Of the fair princess ate. When all was done He took some siri from the betel-box And perfumes used. "Thou art a jasmine sweet," He said, "an antidote to every ill, And thou shalt be my wife."

Next day the prince Took her behind him on his horse, and they Departed. The dyangs accompanied them.

Now will I tell about the mantris all. Until the fall of evening, with the King Of Indrapura, they in waiting stayed, To welcome back the prince. And much disturbed They were that he delayed so long to come. The King then bade them seek the prince, and see Why he remained so long apart from them. Then mantris four set out, and hunted far And wide, but found him not. They brought the news That he could not be found. The King was sad And ordered them to go and tell the King, His wife's dear father, that the prince was lost. The old King fainted when he heard the tale. With oil of rose they sprinkled him, and back Unto his senses came he. "O my child," He said, "my heart hath lost all hope. Where now Art thou? I'll go, myself, to seek."

The King Wept much, and his dear wife. And as for her— Sweet Bidasari—she appeared to wish To kill herself, for never on the earth Did brother love his sister like the prince And Bidasari. At the fall of day Back came the King of Indrapura, sad And weeping. Then the King of Kembajat Said: "O my son, be silent. Do not weep, For thou dost but increase the pain I feel." But Indrapura's King replied: "Alas! He was my brother true, so brave and good!" But while they were lamenting thus the prince Stood there before them with his consort fair. He bowed to all. The King, his father, saw And could not speak. He thought, "It is the voice Of my dear son." Then recognition came And he was wild with joy. The prince then told How he had chased the tiger, and had lost His way within a wood: how he had killed A spirit there, Ifrid, the dread.

The King Heard all he said and much rejoiced. Then came The servants serving tasteful food to all. The King ate with his wife and children dear. Together they were six. All sorts of rare And dainty food were served them, and the King Took siri from the betel-box, and used Sweet perfumes. The great King of Kembajat Then gave a festival which lasted quite Seven days, with music and diversions gay. Glad joy was at its height, of pleasure born And of the dance. The kings amused themselves. All kinds of games they had. Intji Bibi, A singer of Malacca, sang with grace. The seven days passed, the Princess Mendoudari Was all in finery arrayed. The wives Of the two kings took her in hand. The prince Was by the mangkouboumi ta'en in charge. The princess sweetest perfumes did exhale. Her manners were most gracious and polite As of a well-born person. Every sort Of gem and jewel sparkled from her robes. She wore a ring—'twas astokouna called— And yet another one, glangkano named, And still another, with bright stones all carved In fashion of Ceylon. Her tresses curled Like to a full-blown flower, and on them shone Full many precious stones. The tourie buds Became her well. Her features were as bright As those of some celestial being pure. Fair Mendoudari thus was clad, and led To the bride's seat, and at her either hand Stood mantris' daughters seven with waving fans. Meanwhile the mangkouboumi patiently Achieved the tiring of the prince. He wore A royal crown, made in the island fair Called Nousa Antara, and a rich coat Which opened at the sides, made in the West. A chiselled necklace hung about his neck. His tunic flamed with orange, like the robe Of great Schahid Schah Pri. His girdle bright Was cloth of tjindi, fringed with agates rare. An amulet he wore with diamond pure, With sacred words engraved of the Koran. He wore a jewel like a butterfly, Most beautiful, and many rings and gems. His features of the rarest beauty were, Like those of some divinity of heaven. When thus arrayed, the youthful prince came forth And made obeisance to his parents both. He went to the appointed place, and all The children of the court assembled there Before him, while two sons of heralds stood Beside him, waving fans like floating clouds. All kept the strictest silence. Then a band Of soldiers came, with blades all glittering. The royal sword, all diamond decked, flashed rays Of light. Three times around the island went They all, with sound of music and the noise Of bells. And all who heard in vain essayed To estimate the number. Everyone Ran forth to see the progress—men and women. Some tore their garments, some their children lost, Distracted by the pleasure and the noise. When ended the procession, the young prince At Princess Mendoudari's right was placed, Within the palace. Then to them was brought Rice called adapadap, and they became A wedded pair. And all the folk dispersed. In three days' time was Mendoudari dressed Anew by Bidasari. She was robed With vesture of embroidered silk. The prince Was likewise gayly clad, to suit the glad Occasion. Now again they made, in state, A royal progress round about the isle. The King and Bidasari rode in one Grand chariot, and, within another, went The prince and Mendoudari, his fair bride. Then back they came for rest, upon the soft Rich palace cushions. Then the mighty King Of Kembajat inquired of his dear wife: "What think'st thou, love? Shall we to-morrow morn Return?" With smiles the Queen replied, "I bear Thine orders on my head." Next day the hearts Of all the royal company were filled With joy. The officers assembled then To take the King's commands, and he was pleased To see them dutiful. The following morn The song of the bajans awaked the King. At early dawn each princess with her lord, And all the officers, embarked upon The ship. They sailed far from the island fair, Nousa Antara, and in three days came To Indrapura and the river's mouth. When at the palace they arrived again, The mantris came in joy and kissed their hands. The King of Kembajat said that he wished To go. Scarce had fair Indrapura's King Heard that his parents to their home desired At once to go, when he the mantris called And orders gave. The King of Kembajat Set out with his dear wife next day at dawn. Within the palace of their daughter sweet They met fair Indrapura's King. The King Of Kembajat sat at his side, and said In softest tones: "Well, Bidasari, child, Thy parents now will homeward fare. Obey The King, thy gracious husband, in all things. The former merchant brought thee up. He will A father be to thee. Strive hard to win Thy husband's heart, and never disregard His wishes." Scarcely had she heard these words Than at her father's knees she fell, and shed A flood of tears. The King embraced his child And, weeping, said: "My daughter dear, pure gold, My crown's chief gem, light of my very eyes, Branch of my heart, be not disturbed, my soul, Nor let thy heart be sad." The royal four All wept together. Then the father said: "My son, accomplished prince, we trust to thee Our Bidasari. Show her the right path If she aside should step, for hither she As prisoner came. Correction should she need, For us it will not be a shame." At this Fair Indrapura's King was greatly moved. He bowed and said: "My father, speak not thus. I have the best opinion of the girl. Our hearts are one, as body with the soul. This kingdom all is hers, the guardian I Of her possessions, and I'll satisfy Her every wish." The King with joy replied: "Well, daughter, jewel of my crown, thou art No more beneath my sway, but wholly now Under the orders of thy husband dear." He much was moved, and to the mangkouboumi Said, "Brother, take my treasures all, for we Can never all thy goodness recompense." The former merchant and his wife bowed low: "Your gratitude, O prince, is great, but all Thy treasures are thy royal daughter's meed. For her we'll guard them." But the King replied: "Nay, speak not thus, my brother. Should I give All Indrapura's weight in purest gold It would not pay thee for thy care and love. We are to thee devoted from our hearts." At dawn they breakfasted, but all were sad, Because from Bidasari now must part Her parents dear and brother. Much she wept Because she felt her heart go out to him Her brother. Then she said: "I've one to take The place of parents, but where shall I find A brother?" Princess Mendoudari bowed To Bidasari, and they kissed with tears. Fair Bidasari said: "My sister dear, Sweet Mendoudari, when wilt thou return? Stay not too long at Kembajat, for I Could not thine absence bear. Farewell, my love." The King embraced his daughter. Bitterly Both wept. The royal father said, "Stay here, My son-in-law, with thy dear wife." The King Before his parents bowed. The youthful prince Before the King his brother bowed, and went To Bidasari's side, his sister dear, With heavy heart. Then, weeping much, he said: "O sister mine, gem of my crown, be not So sorrowful. I go, but if thou dost Desire, I'll come each year to visit thee." Sweet Bidasari kissed him. But her grief Was inexpressible. "O brother dear, Illustrious prince," she said, "thine absence would E'en then be much too long." The prince replied, With bows: "Assuage thy grief, my sister dear. For if the King permits, perhaps I may Come sooner back to thee."

The mighty King Of Indrapura said, in friendly tones: "Although he be thy brother, still, my dear, I love him much. We ne'er have had the least Misunderstanding. Why art thou not gay? And why art thou not willing he should go? If 'twere not for thy father I would keep Him here."

The King departed, followed by His son, who took his father just beyond The gates. The mangkouboumi bowed his head Before the King, who with much ardor said, "O father of dear Bidasari, give Aid and protection to thy lovely child." The mangkouboumi bowed again, and said: "Whate'er is fit, I'll do. Upon my head I bear thine orders. I thy servant am." The prince embraced the former merchant too, And said, "O uncle dear, my sister guide, And counsel her if any fault she doth." Then said the King of Kembajat, "My son, Come, let us start at once."

So forth he fared. The prince and all the escort with him went. A few days passed and they were home again. New garments to the escort all were given, And many presents to the officers. By mantris four the King rich treasures sent Unto his children loved, with many steeds And elephants. When safely they arrived At Indrapura, they appeared before The mangkouboumi. He presented them Unto the King, and said: "O sire, these gifts Are from thy son." The King replied: "Why dost Thou bring them here, my uncle? Keep them all In thine own treasury." Then he retired Within and said to Bidasari sweet: "Thy father, dear, hath sent us presents rare, And four young mantris, and a thousand men With elephants and horses. All is thine." The fair young Queen with smiles to him replied: "All that with me to share thou dost desire. Whatever be thy wish, I wish it too." The King adored his wife, and was to her Devoted. His great happiness increased And his domains extended every year. When Bidasari's royal birth was known, The news spread far and wide, and everywhere Was told. The realm of Indrapura grew More populous and powerful year by year.

The wicked Princess Lila Sari lived Alone and desolate, in sadness deep And full repentance for her evil deeds.

This song is weak because my skill is small. My heart was deeply stirred. And that is why I made, poor fakir I, this poem here. I have not made it long, because too sad I was, and troubled. Now at last 'tis done. For this, at least, your blessings I deserve.