“As for the style of it, as in all Asiatic countries, it is grave, stately, and slow; it is not the legs, but the body, and especially the arms down to the very fingers, that are employed: dexterity, agility, or liveliness are never attempted. To the gravity and solemnity natural to the inhabitants of a warm climate, any display of agility would seem as indecorous as their stately and sluggish minuet-dancing appears insupportably tiresome to the more volatile and lively tempers of Europeans.
“The dancing of the Indian islanders may be considered as of three kinds: their serious dances on public occasions, the private dances of individuals at festivities, and the exhibitions of professed dancers. Of the first kind are the war-dances: if a warrior throws out a defiance to his enemy, it is done in a dance, in which he brandishes his spear and creese, pronouncing an emphatic challenge; if a native of the same country runs a muck, ten to one but he braves death in a dancing posture. When they swear eternal hatred to their enemies, or fidelity to their friends, the solemnity is accompanied by a dance; all orders executed in the presence of a Javanese monarch, on public occasions, are accompanied by a dance; when a message is to be conveyed to the royal ear, the messenger advances with a solemn dance, and retreats in the same way. The ambassadors from one native prince in Java to another follow the same course, when coming into and retiring from the presence of the sovereign to whom they are deputed. At fights between the buffalo and tiger, when the persons whose business it is to let the latter loose from its cage have performed their duty, and received the royal nod to retire (an occasion, one would think, when dancing might be omitted), they do so in a slow dance and solemn strut, with some risk of being devoured by the tiger in the midst of their performances.
“Previous to the introduction of the Mahomedan religion, it appears to have been the custom among all the Oriental islanders, for men of rank to dance at their public festivities, when heated with wine. This exhibition appears to have been a kind of war-dance; the performer drew his creese, and went through all the evolutions of a mock fight. At present the practice is most common among the Javanese, with every chief of whom dancing, far from being considered scandalous, as among the people of Western India, is held to be a necessary accomplishment. Respectable women never join in it, and with that sex dancing is confined to those whose profession it is. In the most crowded circle of strangers, a Javanese chief will exhibit in the mazes of the dance with an ordinary dancing-girl.
“The professed dancers differ little, but in inferiority of skill, from the common dancing-girls of Hindostan: those who have been often disgusted with the latter will find still less to interest them in the former. The music to which the dancing is performed is indeed, generally, incomparably better than that of Western India, although the vocal part of it is equally harsh and dissonant: now and then a single voice of great tenderness and melody may be found, but whenever an effort is made at raising it for the accommodation of an audience, it becomes harsh and unmusical. The songs sung on such occasions are often nothing more than unpremeditated effusions; but among the Javanese, to whom I am now more particularly alluding, there are some national ballads that might bear a comparison with the boasted odes of the Persian minstrels.”
“Why, Prabu, man, what ails thee?—what makes you look so savage?” said I, as, towards the middle of the next day, the captain returned to us, after having paid a morning visit to the palace.
“The Chief has gone mad: he has summoned his principal men to a council of war, to solemnly declare his vengeance against the Dutch.”
“Well,” asked Martin, “how can you complain, my friend, when you incited him, by intimating that his suzerain, the Rajah, had already joined the conspiracy?”
“But this demonstration will be premature. Should it become known in Batavia, it will ruin all; a great blow has to be struck, but in the dark.”
“Well, Prabu, I wish no harm to you, but, honestly and candidly, I do wish I was out of this matter altogether,” said Martin—adding: “I don’t mind fair, open fighting, but blows in the dark are only dealt by cowards.”
“The Sahib Martin,” he replied, “is prudent; he shall have his desire when we reach the mainland; but this savage Macassar!”