Song

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

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

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

Lo! At this very instant they approached. Dear Bidasari hid behind the couch. The King searched everywhere, and found at last The maiden hiding, bathed in bitter tears. Then kissing her, the King inquired: "My love, Bright glory of my crown; pray tell to me Why thou art sad." He dried her tears. But she Still hung her head in silence. Then the King For elephants and horses to be sent Gave orders. "Go with mantris two at once, And bring the merchant and his wife, and bid Forty dyangs to hasten here forthwith." Then went the mantris forth in haste, and found The merchant and his wife and said, "The King Inviteth ye to come." Then through the wood The parents hurried to the plaisance fair Of Bidasari, there to meet the King. Before his Majesty they bowed with fear. The great King smiled. "Be not afraid," he said, "My uncle and my mother. Let us go Within, to see thy lovely child. I make Ye now my parents. We have friendly been, And still shall be." Beside the King they saw Fair Bidasari seated, as with steps Still hesitating they the palace sought. The father fond was glad within his heart, His daughter was so beautiful. She seemed A princess lovely of the Mount Lidang. "Dear Bidasari, sweetest child," they said, "Behind the King, dear daughter, thou should stand." She made as if to go, but still the King Restrained her, "No, my pretty one," he said; "Thy place is at my side. So God hath willed." The oldest mantri, called for counsel, spoke: "Lila Djouhara good, what sayest thou? Art thou not glad to see thy daughter made A queen? What happiness hath come to thee!" The merchant bowed before the King, and said: "Make her thy servant, not thy wife, my lord. Thy glorious Queen we fear. She e'er hath shown For Bidasari hatred dire, because A child so lovely might attract the King." The monarch hearing him thus speak, still more Toward him was borne. "My uncle," then he cried, "Have no more fear. But never shall I make A servant of thy daughter."

Then he gave Command to build a castle in the wood. And all the workers came, and built it there, With ramparts three. As if by magic then A golden palace rose. The outer gate Was iron, loaded down with arms, and held By demons and by Ethiopians. These were the keepers of the gates, with steeds Untamed. With swords unsheathed they stood alert And waited for the King's commands. Of brass All chiselled was the second gate, supplied With cannons and with powder, guarded safe By beings supernatural. The third Was silver, such as may be seen in far Eirak. The beauty of the castle was Beyond compare! From far it seemed to be As double, like an elephant with two White ivory tusks. Where may its like be found? Three diamonds pure reflected all the light, Big as a melon. Now the castle built, The King a plaisance beautiful desired With gay pavilions, and all kinds of plants. The middle booth nine spacious rooms displayed, One for the royal audiences, adorned And pleasant as a bed of flowers.

The King A festival maintained for forty days, With games and sports and dances to divert. And never was such animation seen! All ate and drank to sound of music sweet. They passed the loving-cup and drank to each In turn.

For forty days resounded there The gongs and gendarangs, and joyous tones Of gay serouni and nefiri glad. "How beautiful is Bidasari!" all Exclaimed; "a thousand times more lovely than The Queen. Thrice happy are the merchant now And his good wife; by marriage they're allied To our great King, though strangers to the land. We count it strange that Bidasari's face In naught is like the merchant nor his wife. Who knoweth but that she, in mortal shape, An angel fair may be? Full many slaves The merchant hath, but never children own." "He found her when a babe, upon the shore," Another said, "and brought her up."

The King Heard all their words. He thought: "It is the truth And this I take as proof of her high birth. She certainly is noble or come down From heaven."

When four days had fled, the wives Of mantris dressed the beauteous girl. They clad Her form in satins soft of Egypt, shot With gold, adorned with precious stones inset And many gems. Her beauty was enhanced The more, till she a radiant angel seemed. She wore a tunic, crimson and pomegranate, With buttons shaped like butterflies. She was Adorned with padaka of five quaint clasps, And belt called naga souma. Ear-rings rich She had, of diamonds set in gold, and wrought Most wondrously, as bright as daylight's gleam; A ring most marvellous and rare she wore Called astakouna, and another named Gland kana, and a third from far Ceylon, Studded with precious stones. Her eyes were like The stars of orient skies. Her teeth were black, Her face like water shone. Her chiselled nose Was prominent and Mike a flower fresh culled. When she was dressed, upon a couch of pearls Her mother put her. Supple was her form, And white, as she reclined, by many maids Surrounded. In his royal garb the prince Was clad, and dazzling to the eyes of all Who saw. He wore a kingly crown which shone With diamonds bright and lucent amethysts And many stones, and all majestic seemed. Then rice was brought. The King with pleasure ate And what was left he gave the mantris' wives. When all had finished he perfumed himself And gazed upon his lovely wife. Her face And form were charming. Her soft tresses curled In grace. Her eyes still kept the trace of tears, Which made her lovelier. The silken folds Of soft Egyptian curtains fell. They were alone. "Awake, my darling," said the prince at dawn, "Crown of my life, awake, my pretty one." Then Bidasari waked and said, with tears: "My friend, I had all sorts of wondrous dreams. I saw a palm-tree tall with tufted limbs, And fruits all ripe." When three days more had fled And all the people saw and loud acclaimed, Then Bidasari took the rank of Queen. The King o'erloaded her with gifts and loved Her tenderly. "Oh, let us live and die Together, dear, and, as the days go by, Think more of one another, and our love Preserve, as in the hollow of the hand Oil is upheld, nor falls a single drop." So spake the King.

The merchant and his wife Were soon established in the neighborhood, Near to Queen Bidasari's palace grand. A hundred servants had they to fulfil Their orders. They sent gifts to all their friends, And food to last a month.

A certain day It chanced that Bidasari said: "O King, Why goest thou no more within the gates Of that thine other palace? Of a truth Queen Lila Sari will be vexed, because Thou hast abandoned her so long a time. She'll think that I have kept thee from her side Unwilling thou shouldst go." So, with all sorts Of words, fair Bidasari strove to urge The King to visit Lila Sari. "I Will go to-morrow," finally he said. He went, when morning came, and met the Queen. She turned him back, and with sharp, bitter words Reproached him. "Wretched one, I will not see Thy face. I love thee not. I hate thee. Go! Lila Djouhara's son-in-law, thou'rt not To me an equal. Thy new wife's an ape, Who liveth in the woods."

But when the King Heard these vociferations of the Queen, He said: "Branch of my heart, light of my eyes, Oh, be not vexed, my dear. It was not I Who wrong began, but thou didst cause it all. For thou didst hide thy deed from me, and drive Me on to this extremity. Oh, why Art thou now angry with me? If thou wilt But love her, and attach thy heart to hers, She'll pardon thee, and take thee as a friend." As more and more enraged the Queen became, Her wrath with strong reproaches overflowed. "Depart from here, accursed of God! Thou art No longer husband mine. Go live with her Whom God hath struck, but whom thou dost delight To honor. Formerly of noble blood Thou wert, but now no more than broken straw. Thou needst not further try to flatter me. Though thou shouldst purify thyself seven times, false one, I'd not permit thee to approach my side." The King grew angry and replied: "Tis thou Who art despicable. Thy cunning tricks Are worthless now. Thy jealousy insane Was without cause, and common were thy acts. Thy wit is much below thy beauty. Will follow thee, should I protection cease." "Have I forgot my noble birth?" she asked.

"But thou hast erred, to lower thine high estate To people of such base extraction. Here And everywhere thy shame is known, that thou Art wedded to a gadabout. Is it For princes thus to wed a merchant's child? She ought far in the woods to dwell, and know Most evil destiny." The King but smiled And said: "If this event is noised abroad, 'Tis thou who wilt receive an evil name. For who in all the land would dare prevent The King from marrying? I ought to take From thee all I have given. But before The people I've no wish to humble thee. Is it because I met thy every wish That thou art grown so bad? Most evil hath Thy conduct been, and I with thee am wroth," And in hot anger rushed the King away, And straight repaired to Bidasari's side.