“The solar year of the Birmans was now drawing to a close, and the three last days are usually spent by them in merriment and feasting. We were invited by the Maywoon to be present on the evening of the 10th of April, at the exhibition of a dramatic representation.
“At a little before eight o’clock, the hour when the play was to commence, we proceeded to the house of the Maywoon, accompanied by Baba-Sheen, who, on all occasions, acted as master of the ceremonies. The theatre was the open court, splendidly illuminated by lamps and torches; the Maywoon and his lady sat in a projecting balcony of his house; we occupied seats below him, raised about two feet from the ground, and covered with carpets; a crowd of spectators were seated in a circle round the stage. The performance began immediately on our arrival, and far excelled any Indian drama that I had ever seen. The dialogue was spirited without rant, and the action animated without being extravagant; the dresses of the principal performers were showy and becoming. I was told that the best actors were natives of Siam, a nation which, though unable to contend with the Birmans and Peguers in war, have cultivated with more success the refined arts of peace. By way of interlude between the acts, a clownish buffoon entertained the audience with a recital of different passages; and by grimace, and frequent alterations of tone and countenance, extorted loud peals of laughter from the spectators. The Birmans seem to delight in mimickry, and are very expert in the practice, possessing uncommon versatility of countenance. An eminent practitioner of this art amused us with a specimen of his skill, at our own house, and, to our no small astonishment, exhibited a masterly display of the passions in pantomimic looks and gestures; the transitions he made, from pain to pleasure; from joy to despair; from rage to madness; from laughter to tears: his expression of terror, and, above all, his look of idiotism, were performances of first-rate merit in their line; and we agreed in opinion, that had his fates decreed him to have been a native of Great Britain, his genius would have rivalled that of any modern comedian of the English stage.
“The plot of the drama performed this evening, I understood, was taken from the sacred text of the Ramayam of Balmiec, a work of high authority amongst the Hindoos.[178] It represented the battles of the holy Ram and the impious Rahwaan, chief of the Ralkuss, or demons, to revenge the rape of Seeta, the wife of Ram, who was forcibly carried away by Rahwaan, and bound under the spells of enchantment. Vicissitudes of fortune took place during the performance, that seemed highly interesting to the audience. Ram was at length wounded by a poisoned arrow; the sages skilled in medicine consulted on his cure; they discovered, that on the mountain Indragurry grew a certain tree that produced a gum, which was a sovereign antidote against the deleterious effects of poison; but the distance was so great that none could be found to undertake the journey: at length, Honymaan,[179] leader of the army of apes, offered to go in quest of it. When he arrived at the place, being uncertain which was the tree, he took up half the mountain, and transported it with ease: thus was the cure of Ram happily effected, the enchantment was broken, and the piece ended with a dance and songs of triumph.”
Dr. Buchanan gives us some farther particulars on this curious subject, which I subjoin:[180]
“Although these entertainments, like the Italian opera, consist of music, dancing, and action, with a dialogue in recitative; yet we understood, that no part but the songs was previously composed. The subject is generally taken from some of the legends of their heroes, especially of Rama; and the several parts, songs, and actions, being assigned to the different performers, the recitative part or dialogue is left to each actor’s ingenuity. If, from the effects on the audience, we might judge of the merit of the performance, it must be very considerable, as some of the performers had the art of keeping the multitude in a roar. I often, however, suspected, that the audience were not difficult to please; for I frequently observed the Myoowun of Haynthawade (the man of high rank whom we most frequently saw), thrown into immoderate laughter by the most childish contrivances. These easterns are indeed a lively, merry people; and, like the former French, dance, laugh, and sing, in the midst of oppression and misfortune.”
But by far the most lucid account that we have of the Burmese drama, is in one of the dramas themselves, which Mr. Smith has translated in the Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal; and he has added much to the value of the work by a few judicious observations, from which I present an extract to the reader:—
“The Ramadzat (Ramahyana), and other ancient fabulous histories, form the groundwork of nearly all the favourite plays, the outline of the story being merely preserved, while the language of the play depends as much upon the fancy of the performer as the taste of the audience. Each company is presided over by a teacher or manager, who drills the actors in their tasks from rough notes, which contain only the songs and the substance of the parts assigned to each performer. In every play, without perhaps a single exception, the following characters are represented,—a king, a queen, a princess, a minister of state, a huntsman, and some kind of monster.[181] The female characters are usually personated by men, it being considered indecorous in a woman to appear as an actress. I have to plead as an apology for the unpolished style of this translation, the acknowledged difficulty of turning the dialogue of a play into a foreign dress; moreover, the original, which was written from the mouth of an actor, was imperfect and ill written. I believe there are books in the palace at Umeraporee, containing the proper reading of all the approved plays, and the costumes of the characters, which are placed near the members of the royal family whenever they call their companies before them; but I have not been able to discover any work of this description here.”[182]
Of the play given by Smith, I shall here offer an epitome:—The nine princesses of the silver mountain, which is separated from the abode of mortals by a triple barrier (the first, a belt of prickly cane; the second, a stream of liquid copper; and the third, a Beloo, or devil), gird on their enchanted zones, which give them the power of flying like birds, and visit a pleasant forest of the earth. While bathing, a huntsman snares the youngest with a magic noose, and carries her to the young prince of Pyentsa, who, on account of her beauty, makes her his chief queen, notwithstanding his recent marriage with the daughter of the head astrologer of the palace. During the princess’s absence, the astrologer takes the opportunity to misinterpret a dream, which the king calls upon him to explain, and declares that the evil spirit, who is exerting himself against the king’s power, is only to be appeased by the sacrifice of the beautiful Manauhurree. The princess’s mother, hearing of this, visits the lovely Manauhurree, and restores to her the enchanted zone, which had been picked up, and given to the old queen, by the huntsman. The princess immediately returns to the silver mountain, but on her way stops at the hermitage of a recluse, who lives on the borders of the forest, and gives him a ring and some drugs, by which the possessor of them can pass unharmed through the dangers of the barrier. The young prince having put an end to the war, returns, and finding his favourite queen gone, he instantly sets off to seek her. Being arrived at the forest, he dismisses his followers, visits the recluse, who gives him the ring and drugs; he then enters the frightful barrier, and, after many adventures, arrives at the city of the silver mountain, and makes known his presence to his beautiful bride, by dropping the ring into a vessel of water, which a damsel is conveying to the bath of the princess. The princess, on finding the ring, inquires of one of the damsels what has happened at the lake, who tells her, that they found a young spirit resting himself, and that he assisted one of the maids to place the vessel of water on her head. The princess cries out, “Oh my husband, come and take me.” The king, her father, is angry that any mortal should presume to enter his country and claim his daughter, he makes him go through trials of riding elephants and horses, and shooting arrows, in which the prince acquits himself surprisingly, but the king insists on his selecting the little finger of Manauhurree from among those of her sisters, thrust through a screen; this he does by the assistance of the king of the Nats. Then, as in a European play, every one is made happy and comfortable.
Perhaps, indeed, the game of chess does not methodically fall in immediately after the consideration of the drama, yet I cannot allow the Burman game, their chief sedentary amusement, to pass without notice. As their principal in-door game, indeed, it may not seem inopportune to place it here. The form of the chess-board, and the manner of arrangement, will be readily understood by the accompanying diagram:[183]—
