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.