“The wind is cold, fast falls the rain,

Yet weeping, chiding, I remain,

You come not still—you still delay!

Oh, wherefore can you stay!”

Malayan romances and minstrelsy are alike rich in imagery, as the following examples from Marsden’s Malay Grammar will suffice to show:—

Passages extracted from a Romance, containing the adventures Of Indra Laksana, Mahadewa, and Dewa Indra. Pŭngutib sagala remah deripada hikayat Indra Laksana, dan Indra Mahadewa dan Dewa Indra.
“The prince then smiling (at the defiance sent by the enemy) went to soothe the affliction of his wife, and addressed her thus: ‘O my love, thou who art to me the soul of my body, farewell! If perchance it should be thy husband’s doom to fall (in the approaching battle), wilt thou cherish the memory of him with some degree of fond concern? Wilt thou wrap him in the scarf that binds thy waist? Wilt thou bathe his corpse with thy tears pure as the dew that hangs at the extremity of the grass? Wilt thou bestrew it with the flowers which now adorn the folds of thy hair?’ The princess upon this wept the more abundantly, and embraced the neck of Indra Laksana, her arm enfolding it as the muskscented epidendrum entwines the angsuka tree (Pavetta indica). Such was the picture she exhibited, whilst Indra wiped away the tears from her eyes.” “Maka baginda pun tŭrsŭnyum sŭraya pŭrgi mŭmbujok istrinya itu, katanya, ‘adoh adinda tinggallah tuan nyawa dan badan kakŭnda, jikalau kakŭnda mati kŭlak, maka tuan kŭnangkanlah kasih sayang kakŭnda yang sŭdikit itu, dan tuan slimutilah kakŭnda dŭngan kain yang dipinggang tuan itu, dan tuan mandikanlah mayat kakŭnda dŭngan ayer mata tuan yang sa’pŭrti ŭmbon yang dihujong rumpot juga adanya. Dan taborilah mayat kakŭnda dŭngan bunga yang dalam sangol tuan itu.’ Maka tuan pŭtri itupon makin sangatalah iya mŭnangis sŭraya mŭmŭlok leher Indra Laksana. Adapun tangan tuan pŭtri mŭmŭlok itu sapŭrti gadong kasturi yang mŭlilit pohon angsuka itu dŭmkianlah rupanya, maka sŭgralah disapunya ulih Indra Laksana ayer matanya tuan pŭtri itu.”
“Upon the arrival of Indra Mahadewa at the palace, he seated himself by the side of the princess (his bride) and said to her, smiling, ‘My love, my soul, what manner is it your intention to dispose of yourself, as I am obliged to proceed in the search of my brother? If it be your design to accompany me, you should lose no time in giving orders for the necessary preparations, as my departure must be immediate.’ When the princess Seganda Ratna heard these words, she held down her head, and with glances sweet as the blue lotos flower in the sea of honey, replied, ‘What plans, my love, am I, a young female, to pursue but those of my lord alone? For is not a wife under the guidance of her husband?’ Indra Mahadewa showed his satisfaction at hearing these expressions from the princess, embraced and kissed her saying, ‘Thy good sense adds grace to thy lovely features; thou shalt be the soother of my cares, my comforter, my companion.’ ” “Adapun Indra Mahadewa sŭtlah iya datang kamahligie itu, maka lalu iya dudok dŭkat tuan pŭtri sŭraya tŭrsŭnyum katanya, ‘ya adinda tuan nyawa kakŭnda, apatah bichari tuan skarang ini, kŭrna kakŭnda ini akau pŭrgi mŭnchari saudara kakŭnda? Dan jikalau tuan akan pŭrgi bŭrsama sama dŭngan kakŭnda, maka baiklah tuan mŭnyurohkan orang bŭr­simpan simpan, skarang ini juga kakŭnda ini akan bŭrjalan.’ Sŭtlah tuan pŭtri Seganda Ratna mŭnŭng ar kata Indra Mahadewa itu, maka tuan pŭtri itupon tundok, maka ekor matanya spŭrti sruja biru yang didalam laut mŭdu, rupanya manis bukan barang barang, sŭraya bŭrkata, ‘ya kakŭnda apatah bichara kapada anak prŭmpuan, mŭlainkan lebih bichara kakŭnda juga? Kŭrna prŭmpuan itu didalam maalum lakinya?’ Maka Indra Mahadewa pun tŭrsŭnyum munŭngar kata tuan pŭtri itu, maka lalu dipŭlok dan chiyumnya sluroh tubohnya, sŭraya katanya, ‘Pandienya orang yang baik paras ini bŭrkata kata,’ dan tuanlah akan pŭmadam hati kakŭnda yang mŭshgol dan yang mŭnjadi panglipur lara hati, dan tŭman kakŭnda.”
“Having spoken thus, Indra Mahadewa bent his course wherever his uncertain steps might lead. With an anxious heart and suffering from hunger and thirst, he penetrated into forests of great extent, ascended high mountains, and crossed wide plains. The sun was now set, and the moon rose in all her splendour as if to serve him for a torch. The prince, although fatigued, proceeded towards the hills of Indra Kila, and as he passed, the tender branches of the climbing plants waved with the wind and seemed inclined to follow the beautiful youth. As the dawn gradually arose, the clouds in the border of the sky assumed a variety of shapes, some having the form of trees, and some resembling animals; but the trees of the forest were still obscured from sight by the dense vapour rising from the dew. The light of the sun now began to appear, glancing from the interstices of the mountains like the countenance of a lovely virgin, whilst its beams shooting upwards exhibited the appearance of flags and banners waving in front of an army marching to battle.” “Sutlah sudah iya bŭrkata dumkian itu, maka Indra Mahadewa itupun bŭrjalanlah dŭngan sapambawa kakinya, dŭngan rawan hatinya, dŭngan lapar dahaganya, masok hutan rimba yang bŭsar bŭsar, dan mŭlalui gunong yang tinggi tinggi, dan masok padang yang luas luas. Maka mata hari pun masoklah, maka bulan pun tŭrbitlah spŭrti orang mŭnyulohkan Indra Mahadewa itu, chayanya pun tŭrlalu trang tŭmarang. Maka baginda pun lalu mŭnuju gunong Indra Kila dŭngan lŭlahnya, maka sagala puchok kayu yang mŭlata ditiup angin mŭlambie rupanya, spŭrti handak mŭngikot orang baik paras lakunya. Maka fajar pun mŭnyensenglah bŭr­pangkat pangkat, maka awan ditŭpi langit itu bŭrbagie rupanya, ada yang spŭrti pohon kayu, dan ada yang spŭrti binatang rupanya, maka sagala pohon rimba itu pun tiadalah klihatan kŭrna kabot ulih ŭmbun. Maka chaya matahari pun tŭrbitlah mŭmanchar manchar deri chŭlah chŭlah gunong, spŭrti muka anak darah yang elok rupanya, dan rupa sinarnya yang mŭmanchar kaatas spŭrti tunggol dan mega dihadapan lawan akan prang.”
“The king was highly pleased with the manners and disposition of Dewa Indra, as well as with his graceful person and superior understanding. He said to him, ‘Partake of betel, my son.’ Dewa Indra having accordingly partaken, returned the betel-stand to the king, who thus addressed him: ‘I have sent for you, my son, in order to make known to you a resolution taken by me some time since; that to the person who having counted out ten large measures of sesame seed and as many measures of sand, thoroughly blended together, should be able to separate the grains of the one from the grains of the other, and to complete the performance of the task in the course of a day; to such person alone should I give the hand of my daughter in marriage.’ Dewa Indra smiled on hearing the king’s words, knowing them to proceed from the artful suggestion of the princes (his rivals), and bowing replied, ‘whatever may be your majesty’s injunctions, your servant is ready to execute them.’ The sand and the sesame seed being then provided and mixed together in the court before the palace, Dewa Indra made his obeisance, descended to the spot, and as he stood beside the heap, silently wished for aid from the king of the ants; when instantly the monarch made his appearance, followed by his whole army, consisting of the population of nine hillocks. Upon receiving the directions of Dewa Indra for separating the grains, each individual ant took one seed in his mouth, and in this manner the separation was presently effected and the grains laid in distinct heaps, not one being wanting. This done, the king of the ants and all his train disappeared, and returned to the place from whence they came. Dewa Indra reascended the steps of the palace, and having taken his seat and made obeisance, said, ‘Your Majesty’s commands for the separation of the sand and the sesame seed have been obeyed by your mean and humble slave.’ The king expressed his amazement, and all the ministers of state, the warriors, and the people in general were astonished at witnessing this proof of the supernatural power of Dewa Indra; but with respect to the princes, some of them shook their heads, some bent them down, and others turned them aside, being unable to support his looks.” “Maka baginda pun tŭrlalu sangat bŭrkŭnan mŭlihat lakunya dan pŭkŭrtinya Dewa Indra itu, tambahan pula dŭngan baik rupanya, dŭngan arif bijaksananya. Sŭraya katanya, ‘Makanlah sireh, ya anakku.’ Maka Dewa Indra itupŭn lalu makan sireh sa’kapor, maka dipŭrsŭmbahkaneya kapada Dewa Indra, katanya: ‘hie anakku, adapun ayahanda mŭnyuroh mŭmanggil tuan kamari ini, kŭrna ayahanda ini sudah bŭrtitah dahulu; shahadan barang siapa dapat mŭmbilang biji lang yang sa’puloh koyan, dan pasir sapuloh koyan juga, maka dichamporkan antara kaduanya itu, kŭmdian maka dipilehnya pasir dan biji lang itu, shahadan maka habislah dŭngan sa ‘hari itu juga, atau kapada malam, maka iyalah akan suami tuan pŭtri.’ Maka Dewa Indra Kayangan itupun tŭrsŭnyum, dan taulah iya akan tipu itu deripada anak rajah rajah itu juga, maka Dewa Indra itupun mŭnyŭmbah sŭraya kaatanya, ‘mana titah deri bawa duli tuanku, patik junjong.’ Maka pasir dan biji lang itupŭn sudah sŭdialah dichamporkan orang ditŭngah miedan itu dibalerong itu, maka Dewa Indra itupun mŭnyŭmbah, lalu turon bŭrdiri dihampir lang dan pasir itu, maka dichitanya rajah sŭmut; maka dŭngan skutika itu juga rajah sŭmut itupun datang dŭngan sagala blantŭntaranya, yang sambilan timbunan itu. Maka disurohnya ulih Dewa Indra mŭmilih pasir dan biji lang itu, maka ulih sagala tŭntara sŭmut lalu digigitnyalah sa’orang satu biji lang, itupun dilainkannya, maka dŭngan skutika itu juga pasir dan biji lang itupun masing masing dŭngan timbunannya, maka barang sa’biji juga pun tiadalah kurang. Maka rajah sŭmut dan sagala blantŭntaranya itupun raiblah kŭmbali katŭmpatnya, maka Dewa Indra itupun naiklah ka’atas balerong itu lalu dudok mŭnyŭmbah baginda sŭraya katanya, ‘Sudah tuanku turpilih biji lang dan pasir itu ulih patik yang hina papa ini.’ Maka baginda pun hieran dan tŭrchŭngang chŭngang, turmangau mangau dŭngan sagala pŭrmantri, hulubalang, pahlauan dan rayat skalian, itupun hieranlah iya mŭlihat kasaktian itu, maka akan anak rajah itu ada yang mŭnggrakkan kapalanya dan ada yang tundok, dan ada yang bŭrpaling, tiada mau mŭlihat muka Dewa Indra kayangan.”

The Malays of Borneo acknowledge the rule of a Sultan, who is assisted by various Ministers of State, who are principally his own relations. The Court at Brunei is kept up by taxes imposed on the few Chinese merchants, and on the native Borneans who live inland beside the rivers on the north-west coast from the Baram to Kimanis. A yearly payment is also made to the Sultan by the Rajah of Sarawak. Many of the Malays are traders. The poorer classes are sailors, fishermen, or engaged in simple domestic industries.

The true bred Malay has a penchant for building his pile dwelling over the shallow water near the mouth of or beside a river wherever such a site is procurable. The Borneans, on the other hand, prefer a clearing near the streams, and some tribes, especially the Dusan, build their huts high up in the hills.

Intermarriages with native women have helped to identify the Malays with the Borneans, and especially with the Kadyans, a tribe who live near the capital, and who long ago embraced the faith of Mahomet. The language of the Malays is soft and pleasing in sound—the “Italian of the East”—and very expressive. It is readily acquired by strangers, and forms the medium of commercial communication throughout the Straits Settlements and Malay Archipelago. Like our own tongue, Malay seems to be a conventional blending of several other languages, Arabic, Sanscrit, and the languages of the aboriginals with whom the Malays were first thrown into contact. At the present day many English and Portuguese words find their way into it but little disguised by pronunciation. Malay is the Court language at Brunei, but the inhabitants generally use a dialect similar to that of the aboriginals who live near the capital.

The clothing of the Malays of high rank is often very lavish and showy, consisting of fancy head-cloths and short jackets, often highly embroidered with gold buttons and wire or lace. White trowsers, similar to those worn by Europeans, and patent leather slippers are also affected by the rich Malays, and all, rich or poor, wear the national “sarong,” a sort of chequered petticoat wound around the waist, and allowed to fall to the feet in graceful folds. When trowsers are worn a shorter “sarong” is worn kilt-fashion, barely reaching as low as the knees. The Malay Hadjis or priests wear long green Arab coats, and green or white turbans around their shaven heads. The women when engaged in their household duties wear nothing but a “sarong” reaching from the breasts to the feet. When abroad, however, neat print sacques reaching as low as the knees are worn, having long and tight sleeves. This dress opens in front, and is fastened by a set of three silver or gold brooches. Below this a chequered, or Javanese sarong reaches from the waist to the ankles. Beautiful sarongs are made by the Brunei ladies. They are richly embroidered with gold wire, and are worn by the well-to-do women along the coast.