“Well,” said Martin, “this is refreshing after that horrible story; but proceed, Mr. Si-Ling—let us have another; of course, it will not be to the advantage of the Dutch.”
“It will not,” replied the Chinese; “but the noble youth shall judge for himself:—
“Since the earliest coming of the Dutch into Java, it has been their policy to set the native princes by the ears, and then take advantage of the internecine quarrels to increase their own power. Sometimes they would dethrone one sovereign and place a rival in his seat. One of the princes so raised to the throne was the Pangeran of Pugar. Now, the Prince of Sourabaya, Jayeng Rono, was his dearest friend and most confidential adviser, as also was the Prince of Madura. Unfortunately, Jayeng Rono fell under the displeasure of the Dutch—either, it is supposed, because he had thwarted some of their ambitious designs, or was wanting in subserviency. However, be that as it may, the Dutch general one day sent to the Susunan, demanding his life might be taken.
“The poor sovereign, who had not long before lost his friend, the Prince of Madura, almost paralyzed with astonishment and terror, exclaimed:
“‘What! I have already lost my right hand; would these Hollanders also take my left? No—it shall not be.’
“Then, without giving an answer to the Dutch—for he feared to offend them—he dispatched a messenger at once to his friend, who was absent from the capital, Cartasura, informing him that the Dutch demanded his life, but that, if he chose to resist, he should be secretly aided and abetted. The noble-minded Jayeng Rono, however, clearly foreseeing that resistance would involve the ruin, not only of himself, but of his whole family, came to the disinterested resolution of sacrificing his own life to secure the safety of his friends and relations, and therefore at once repaired to Cartasura to meet his fate. Here he had many sad audiences with the Susunan. The latter, finding Jayeng would not fly, promised to protect his family, and complied with his request to appoint his brother to the place left vacant by his death. At length, the warrant for the prince’s execution came from Batavia. The Susunan summoned him to the palace, and as, without a retainer, the old man (for Jayeng Rono was very old) entered the courtyard, he was met by the public executioner, who dispatched him upon the spot. So terrible, oh, noble youths, has been the tyranny and oppression of the Dutch in Java!” concluded the Chinese, but, as I thought, with a curious leer in his eyes.
“Horrible!” said I; “but, Martin, I feel unaccountably sleepy.”
“So do I,” replied my brother, with a yawn; “the—the mangosteen hasn’t agreed with us.”
As for me, I could barely keep my ears open to listen to the concluding part, or rather epilogue to the historiette, which ran thus:—
“But, oh, noble youths, the wicked are always punished, in this world or the next; so the murder of Jayeng Rono was fearfully avenged. The most formidable and destructive rebellion which has ever been known in the East broke out. Joyopuspito, brother to the deceased chief, accepted of his office, but only to use the influence which it afforded him for revenge. He subdued all the districts in his vicinity—called to his assistance the people of Bali—was joined by the Madurese, and by several rebel princes of the House of Martaram; so that this formidable insurrection only terminated by his death, in the succeeding reign, after desolating the country for a great many years. The Chief of Sourabaya, in the many actions which he fought with the Dutch, and in all his proceedings, displayed so much enterprise, spirit, and conduct, that, but for the superior equipments and military science of the Europeans, he must have acquired the sovereignty of the island.”